


Everyone You've Ever Loved

by JBS_Forever



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Mild torture, also it's a world where team Cap is working with team Stark again, but I don't want to spam the tags, cause I need Steve in my life okay, good luck, jesus it's SO long you guys, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBS_Forever/pseuds/JBS_Forever
Summary: “You will lose, Tony Stark,” the man says. “You have taken everything from me. Now I'm going to take everything from you.”(Or: A masked-man threatens to destroy everyone Tony Stark has ever cared about. He starts by taking Peter.)





	Everyone You've Ever Loved

**Author's Note:**

> surprise. I managed to get back a copy of this story. let me tell you straight up how uneasy I am about posting this as one giant chapter, but there was no point in breaking into ten pieces again cause a lot of you guys have already read it, so like, where's the mystery? 
> 
> anywayyy, for those who haven't read it, sorry it's in one chapter, but I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> OH! ****TRIGGER WARNING*** there is a suicide in this story, so please don't read if it is a sensitive topic. take care of yourself <3

 

i.

 

 

The first thing he sees is Peter.

 

Peter, in his Spider-Man suit, crumpled on the ground in a bloody mess. Rips and holes are painted through the fabric, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal the thick, red liquid pouring from his nose. He lies at the foot of a masked man, completely still.

 

“You may be wondering who I am,” the man says.

 

Everyone's eyes are glued on the screen in front of them. The screen that came to life in the middle of their party, interrupted their buzzed chatter and warm laughs. No one has moved since.

 

"You may be wondering what I want."

 

Tony's brain is processing things too slow, caught between the alcohol coursing through him and the complete surprise of seeing the kid suddenly appearing on every TV in the tower. Isn't Peter supposed to be with friends somewhere tonight? That's what teens do, isn't it? They go trick-or-treating or to haunted houses or horror movies or some other shit. Peter has spent the last two weeks talking non-stop about a theater in Manhattan showing every Friday the 13th movie. He should be there right now.

 

“You may be wondering what I'm doing with Spider-Man here.”

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Tony chokes out. It can't be Peter. It has to be some jackass dressed as him, just an actor as part of a guise or a college kid in a costume accidentally mistaken for the real thing. It's Halloween, and Spider-Man has enough of a following that Tony has seen his fair share of drunk guys dressed in homemade, crappy versions of the red and blue suit, hitting on girls and falling on their faces when they try to climb walls at their requests.

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice is low. “It's him.”

 

 _Shit. Shit shit shit_. “Is he –?”

 

“He's alive, boss.”

 

“I want to give Tony Stark a message,” the man says. Tony feels Natasha spare a glance at him. On his other side, Steve stands with his arms crossed, his shoulders tight and rigid. The entire room is as still as Peter is. Clint, Wanda, Vision, the stray researchers and team members. No one breathes.

 

“I might not be able to get to you personally, Mr. Stark, but I can get to everyone you've ever helped.” The man nudges Peter with his foot, the camera panning down to follow the action, zooming in so they can all see just how bad the damage is. Tony's heart races.

 

“Your little spider friend here is the first of many.”

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., track him,” Tony says. “ _Now._ ”

 

Something in his tone sends the world back into motion. Behind him, people start bustling around, murmuring to each other. Clint makes his way over to Tony's main computer system and sits down. “I'll try to pinpoint where the signal is coming from," he says. Tony nods stiffly.

 

The camera shifts up to the man again. “You may have the heroes on your side, but heroes can be broken. This is a message to the world. Look at your friendly neighborhood hero. Spider-Man is nothing but limbs that can be shattered and pulled apart. You put your faith so easily in things that can be destroyed. And why? So maybe they'll protect you? But what happens when they hurt you instead?”

 

“ _F.R.I.D.A.Y_.,” Tony says.

 

“The tracking in the suit has been disabled,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. “I'm trying to find another way into the system.”

 

“Activate the Baby Monitor Protocol. See if Karen is still alive in there.”

 

“Baby Monitor Protocol?” Steve asks.

 

“Karen records everything he sees,” Tony says. “If we can get in there we can figure out where he is.”

 

The bustle of the room becomes louder. Clint swears under his breath. “He's broadcasting to every station on the air.”

 

“Can you track it?” Steve asks, his voice hard and commanding as if they're in the middle of a battle. And they are, aren't they? One of their own has been taken hostage.

 

 _Shit. He's just a kid_.

 

“I'm trying. He's pinging the signal across multiple IP addresses. I don't know who the hell this guy is, but he's definitely not new at this.”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms this a few seconds later. “Boss, the entire history has been wiped from the suit's hard drive. I can't talk to the A.I., but I can access the live feed. You'll only be able to see what he's looking at.”

 

“Fine,” Tony snaps. “Just do it.”

 

Another screen flashes to life. There's a view of a ceiling, high up, like one in a warehouse or storage facility. Tony doesn't recognize it. "Scan the area from both feeds. See if you can find anything distinct enough to tell us where he is."

 

"Scanning now."

 

Natasha leans closer. Tony knows they're all looking too, searching for any symbols or markings, anything to tell him what this place is. But there's no distinction. Peter could be anywhere in New York. He could be anywhere in the world.

 

“God damn it.”

 

“Move, kid,” Steve mutters. “Come on. Show us where you are.”

 

They stare. Tony prays in head, begging Peter to wake up if only enough to give them some kind of clue as to where he is.

 

Nothing happens.

 

The man speaks again. “The protectors you love are nothing more than fragile men. Take this as a lesson, everyone. Your heroes have fallen. Spider-Man is dead.”

 

Something cold washes over Tony. Peter isn't dead. Not yet, anyway. F.R.I.D.A.Y. tells him this again immediately. But that doesn't mean he won't be soon if they don't find him.

 

“You will lose, Tony Stark,” the man says, drawing Tony's attention back to the other screen. “You have taken everything from me. Now I am going to take everything from you.”

 

Silence floats around them, heavy and thick and suffocating.

 

When the feed from the camera cuts, so does the one from the suit.

 

Both screens go black.

 

* * *

 

 

ii.

 

 

 

The noise hasn't stopped since the camera went off the air.

 

Tony pokes around through the protocols in the kid's suit, trying to turn on anything that might help them find his location, while F.R.I.D.A.Y. works to reach Karen. Dozens of people in their nice dress clothes are scattered throughout the place, talking into phones, typing on screens. No one from the party has left. They have all fallen into their normal roles, Halloween forgotten, sobriety sparking in a way only panic can do.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., you get anything?” Tony asks.

 

“Nothing yet, boss.”

 

He turns away from his screen. “Barton, what do you have?”

 

“I have a guy in a cheap mask who knows how to make himself untraceable,” says Clint. “I'm working on it.”

 

Tony swears under his breath and checks Peter's vital information. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is still able to access parts of the suit even if she can't talk to it, and as long as Tony is able to make sure the kid is alive he can work from there. Losing the live feed was an inconvenience. Losing their connection entirely will screw them over worse than anything else.

 

“Stark,” Steve says, coming up behind him. “We need more eyes. Can you tap into the security cameras near his apartment?”

 

“Of course I can. I tapped into the White House cameras when I was in high school. This is nothing.”

 

Steve raises an eyebrow.

 

“It was a dare,” Tony says. “Don't look at me like that, Mr. Lied-About-His-Everything-To-Join-The-Army.”

 

“I was fighting for the greater good.”

 

“Yeah, so was I.”

 

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts. “I found a backdoor in the suit's hardware. I am in contact.”

 

Tony feels his pulse climb. He shares a quick look with Steve, an unspoken, weary relief, as the room goes softer.

 

“Can you talk to him?”

 

“Yes. I'm talking to him now. He is conscious and aware. I cannot stay too long though. Two A.I. systems in this small of space will overload the sensors. I could cause irreversible damage.”

 

Time is ticking. “Ask him if he knows where he is.”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. is quiet a few seconds.

 

“He says he is not sure. He says he was knocked unconscious before he was taken there. It looks like some kind of warehouse to him.”

 

“Yeah, we saw that too. That's not helpful. Are there any markings? Any names on anything he can see?”

 

There's another pause. “There are no markings he can see. He says it looks like the building from Homecoming.”

 

“That could be any warehouse in the world, Fri.”

 

Tony rubs his forehead, a million questions racing through his mind. How do they find him without tracking him when they have no distinct environment? They'll have to do just what Steve said. Street cameras, store cameras. Track him through those eyes for every second after he left school. Find the last person to see him before he disappeared.

 

He motions for one of his team members as Steve clears his throat.

 

“Is he alone?” Steve asks.

 

“At the moment, yes.”

 

“Can you tell him to try to find a door or a window? Any kind of opening to the outside world. If he can get to a street we should be able to find him.”

 

“I don't think he is able to.”

 

“Why?”

 

“He is restrained.”

 

Tony makes a noise in the back of his throat. _Jesus mother fucking_ –

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Natasha says calmly. “How bad is he hurt?”

 

The silence that follows is almost unbearable. Tony digs his nails into his palm.

 

“He says he is fine.”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. is an artificial intelligence system, which, among many complicated things, means she's unable to lie. Peter, on the other hand, isn't. And Tony knows that's exactly what he's doing right now. He looks at his vitals again.

 

“Boss, I am overheating the system. I have to leave.”

 

“Tell him we'll find him,” Steve says quickly. “Tell him we won't stop until we do.”

 

Around them, the lights flicker. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is seconds away from shutting down the A.I. in Peter's suit, which will result in a temporary shut down on her own part as well.

 

“Get out,” Tony says. “Now, before you fry it and we can't get in again.”

 

The lights flash brighter and settle back into their normal glow. Everyone pauses from where they are positioned, waiting for their next cue.

 

Finally, F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice comes through the room. “I am out.”

 

The words bring less comfort than he expects them to. “Good. Right. Okay. You two –” He points toward Clint and the man next to him. “Do what the Cap said. Look through security cameras. Find him when he disappears and give me every angle. Start at Midtown High and follow him. He usually patrols right after school, but he might have had different plans for Halloween.”

 

“On it,” Clint says.

 

Steve steps forward, taking command from there. “We need people on the ground,” he says. “I'll take Natasha. We'll grab Sam and Rhodey while we're at it. Split up and check every warehouse you can. If he's still in New York, we'll find him.”

 

“F..R.I.D.A.Y.,” says Tony. “Call Rhodey. Tell him to put his legs on and get ready.”

 

“Yes, boss.”

 

“What are you going to do?” Steve asks.

 

“I'm gonna dig into Karen's system and see if there isn't a way to reactivate that tracker. It's not rocket science to disable it. The kid did it himself after he and his buddy hacked into the suit. There might be a way to get around whatever is blocking it now.”

 

Steve gives a curt nod. He and Natasha turn to leave, but Tony calls to them before they can. “Oh, and keep it subtle, all right? Pepper is on her way back from D.C. to deal with PR, but until then I've got a hundred reporters and police bureaus breathing down my neck. If you cause a commotion you'll be on every news station in the tri-state area before you can even say 'sorry.'”

 

“Well.” Natasha winks at him. “Lucky for you, my middle name is 'Subtle.' Him, on the other hand –” She glances at Steve. “He needs some work.”

 

“Natasha Subtle Romanoff? Has a nice ring,” Steve says.

 

From across the room, Clint snorts. “She has a knack for going by nicknames. Isn't that right, Natalia?'

 

“You better watch it, Clinton,” says Natasha, her smile soft and dangerous. Tony huffs out a breath and waves them off.

 

“Cut your sexual tension with someone else's knife. Get going.” He sidesteps a woman carrying her high heels and scans over everyone until his eyes rest on the two he's looking for.

 

“Wanda,” he says, “You're good at controlling things. Come help me.”

 

She nods.

 

“And Vision …” Tony breaks off. _Shit_ , he doesn't even know what else there is to do.

 

 _Just find him fast_.

 

“I will do what I can,” Vision says. Tony gives him a grateful look and watches only long enough to see him dissolve through the floor. Wanda joins his side as they make their way over to a station.

 

“What would you like me to do?”

 

Tony's chest feels tight. The warning signs of a panic attack are creeping up on him and he doesn't have the time to deal with right now. This isn't New York again. This is a human being with a grudge. “I don't know yet. Give me a second to figure out what we're dealing with.”

 

She looks at him for a long moment.

 

“Tony,” she says. “We'll find him. You know that, right?”

 

Tony taps on the screen and pulls up F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s coding. Peter's vitals flash steadily to his left. “That's not the part I'm worried about.”

 

 

* * *

 

  

“Peter, it would be in your best interest to try to calm down.”

 

“I am calm.” Peter slams the shackles holding his ankles together onto the edge of the cylinder bock.

 

“That is reinforced steel,” Karen tells him. “You'll need more momentum than that to break it.”

 

“Well.” He kicks down again, balancing his weight awkwardly on his hands bound behind him. “Momentum isn't really possible right now.” Another slam. “So repetition is gonna have to do.”

 

“Peter, with your current injuries I really must recommend you save your energy.”

 

“Karen, I gotta – ” Peter breaks off. The next slam that echoes through the warehouse isn't from him. It comes from across the large place, a door opening and closing. He drops his feet to the ground and looks over his shoulder. The man in the black mask approaches lazily.

 

“Hey buddy,” Peter says. “You know, your Halloween mask isn't that impressive. You can take it off. I'm sure we can find you a better one.”

 

His heart is pounding so loud in his ears that he misses whatever Karen says to him. He should stop talking, probably, but he has this idea that if he can see who this guy is maybe he'll be able to use it to his advantage. It's entirely stupid and unreasonable, but it's all he's got.

 

The man's mask is tight enough that when he smiles it morphs around his lips. “Tell me, Mr. Peter Parker,” he starts, and Peter's blood turns cold. “What's it like to finally be an Avenger?”

 

Okay, _shit_. That isn't good at all. This isn't some random grab-and-go. This guy knows his identity.

 

“I ...” Peter doesn't know if he's supposed to respond or not. The man steps past him, stopping where he's set up a tripod and camera. Another live feed to the world. Will Peter be in this one? He keeps his mouth closed. It's still the only part of him not covered by the tight fabric of his suit. He can feel the dried blood coating the lower half of his face.

 

“You know the part I don't understand?” the man says. “You all idealize these 'superheroes.' You create toys and merchandise in their honor and you wear costumes in their image. You think they're so perfect. And then they kill people and you, what? You forgive them? You call them again to save you like nothing has happened?”

 

He crosses the space between them and hooks an arm under Peter's, dragging him across the floor.

 

“Hey!” Peter struggles against him, but he has no leverage. The way his hands are tied together makes it impossible to push this guy off, and his current state of pain-induced-weakness isn't helping either.

 

“Have you ever killed anyone, Peter Parker?” The man pushes him when he lets go, sending Peter rolling onto his side. He's in direct line of the camera now.

 

Fear spikes its way through his stomach. The man smiles again.

 

“I didn't think so.”

 

He fiddles with the lens of the recording device, twisting and turning it each way before he takes a step back and looks down at Peter.

 

“I think it's time, Spider-Man, to consider what it's like to be one the causalities.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

iii. 

 

 

“ _Authorities are saying the masked man has yet to be identified_ ,” the reporter says. “ _The FBI and Stark Officials are attempting to find the location of the man and his captive – Queen's own vigilante who goes by the name Spider-Man_.”

 

Pepper follows him across the room. “Tony, we need to move you to a secure location.”

 

“Hey Stark,” Clint calls. “We got something weird.”

 

“Define 'weird.'”

 

“I'm serious,” Pepper says, moving with him over to Clint's station.

 

Tony says, “I know you're serious. It's adorable. What do you got, Barton?”

 

Clint pulls up the footage of a street corner in Queens, the cameras angled at a deli-grocery with the words "Best Sandwiches in Queens" scrawled across it. Tony recognizes it. It's the place that got sliced in half by a laser beam when the kid was trying to stop some guys from robbing an ATM.

 

“Watch this.” Clint presses play. From the screen on the right, they watch Peter walk into frame. He's wearing his backpack, sporting a “Midtown School of Science and Technology” sweatshirt as he glances over his shoulder to check oncoming traffic. He crosses the street, another camera picking him up as he moves into the center screen.

 

“Okay, so he goes inside the deli,” Clint says. He fasts forward, waiting until Peter emerges again carrying a plastic bag. “Now watch. Are you watching?”

 

“I'm watching,” says Tony. Peter crosses the street again, heading the opposite direction. Tony looks at the other screen, expecting to see him emerge into the next camera angle. He doesn't.

 

“What the hell?”

 

“I have another view.” Clint pulls up the footage. The same thing happens. One second Peter is there, crossing the street, stepping right outside the view of the camera, and then the next he's gone.

 

“Has the footage been tampered with?” Tony asks. “That kid is quick, but there's no way he's _that_ quick.”

 

Clint puts the video in slow motion and points toward the edge of the screen. “If I had to guess, I'd say someone grabs him right … there.” It's the exact moment Peter is out of frame. There is a lap in space, a small section where neither of the cameras reach. It's all too perfect and precise.

 

“There's a car that comes through a second after. I think Peter is inside it. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

 

“Did you track it?”

 

“I tried. We lose it about halfway through Brooklyn. I've got the license plate. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is looking up who it belongs to.”

 

Tony taps on his earpiece. “Did you hear that, Cap?”

 

“Brooklyn,” Steve says. “We're already there.”

 

“I'm sending one of my heat-seeking drones out after you. We'll –”

 

Before he can finish, Pepper pulls his earpiece out, her eyebrows raised in irritation. The motion doesn't startle Tony so much as it amuses him.

 

“I was using that,” he says.

 

“And I was talking to you,” she says. “Tony, this guy is crazy. I know you're worried about Peter, but getting yourself killed isn't going to help him.”

 

“He's not going to kill me.”

 

“You don't know that.”

 

“Barton, she took my stuff,” he says, feigning a whine.

 

“Oh, now you're _telling_ on me?”

 

“Children,” Clint warns, his eyes still locked on the screen as he scrolls through footage. “Don't make me turn this tower around.”

 

Pepper drops the earpiece into Tony's hand. “When Happy gets back from picking up Peter's aunt we're moving you somewhere else. End of discussion.”

 

“I hate to cause problems,” a new voice says. Pepper jumps as Vision glides up through the floor behind her. Tony smirks. “But Mr. Stark is right. If this man wished to kill him he would have attempted to do so by now. He is seeking revenge. The best way to achieve that is not to kill the person you are trying to get even with. It's ...”

 

“Yeah, we get the idea,” Tony says. “Which means there's no point in leaving.”

 

Pepper glances between the two of them and sighs. “Fine. But do you think it's smart to have half your team out there? If this guy is trying to kill everyone, won't he go after them?”

 

“Not to sound harsh,” says Vision. “But they are more experienced than Peter is. The likelihood of this man being able to capture them as well is slim.”

 

Tony fits his earpiece back into place, ignoring Pepper's muttered, “Slim doesn't mean impossible.” He hits the button to activate the comm and almost immediately there's chaos.

 

“Get out, get out!” Sam is yelling.

 

Clint freezes. “Guys, what's happening?”

 

“We've been compromised. It was a trap.”

 

“Sam, where is Natasha?” Steve asks.

 

“I'm on your tail,” Natasha says.

 

“Rhodes?”

 

“Coming down. The whole structure is rigged. It's gonna blow. You need to get away _now_.”

 

There's the sound of heavy breathing, of thrusters starting and engines rumbling and everyone yelling commands to each other. Steve tells Natasha to get on the back of his bike. Sam and Rhodey hit the air. They're all fleeing, all noise and controlled panic. In the middle of it, there's a brief silence, enough empty air to let through a small, “Aw, shit,” and a split second later an explosion rumbles the comm, the sound so loud even Pepper hears it.

 

“What was that?” she demands.

 

Tony doesn't answer her. He's listening for life on the other end of the line, hoping to whatever God is up there at the moment that he didn't just kill half his team.

 

“Tony,” Pepper says. Tony brings a shaky hand to his ear and presses the button.

 

“Roll call,” he says. “Are you guys okay?”

 

Static hums. All Tony can think is _shit shit shit shit shit_. The mantra morphs in time with his heartbeat.

 

And then, “We're good, Tony.”

 

Rhodey.

 

Tony breathes out in relief, resting his palms against the desk. “What the hell just happened?”

 

“The warehouse was rigged. That asshole must have known we were coming.”

 

It doesn't settle right. “Are you telling me he had a building rigged in the event you'd just happen to show up there?”

 

“We didn't just happen to show up there,” Sam says. “The kid's backpack was scattered all over the street in front of it. And your drone thing saw life inside.”

 

Life inside? _Shit_.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., Peter's vitals. Now.”

 

“He wasn't there, Stark. There was no one there.”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. brings up a display. They're right. All the numbers are still there. Peter is still alive. So why exactly did his drone see something?

 

“Hate to break it to ya,” Clint says, “But this guy is more clever than we thought. I think he's messing with your tech.”

 

Tony runs a hand over his face. Who the hell is this guy? He's pissed off a lot of geniuses in his day, a lot of people with access to things that could easily destroy him, but this is beyond that. Disabling the tracker in the kid's suit, shutting down Karen so she can't send out signals, and now altering his drones so they see things that aren't there? Add a bomb on top of that and this guy is doing more than attempting to kill all his friends. He's teasing him.

 

 _Jesus_. He's gonna make this guy rot in the worst kind of prison once he finds him.

 

“Tony,” comes Wanda's voice from across the room. “You need to see this.”

 

Several things happen at the same time. Right after Wanda calls his attention, Peter's vitals morph. Heart rate, blood pressure, breathing rate – they all jump through the roof, rising higher and higher and higher. As they do, F.R.I.D.A.Y. calls his attention to them, and Steve's voice comes over the comm.

 

“Tony, turn on the TV.”

 

It's already on. It had been playing the news, but now it's a view of the collapsed warehouse, debris falling like ashes, concrete cracked and shattered and blown all over the place.

 

Someone turns up the volume. It's not the news anymore. It's the man.

 

“So you've made it out,” he says. “The Avengers survive again. Look around you, world. Look at the damage they've caused without any care. Look at the lives they've injured.”

 

Rhodey's voice is quiet but commanding through the comm. “There was no one there, Tony. We secured the area. There were no civilians around.”

 

“You could have been walking by when they blew up this building.” the man says. “Your children could have been playing near here. Do you know how many children have been killed by your precious heroes? Why don't you ask their grieving parents?”

 

The footage changes from the warehouse to shots of Sokovia. The battle with Ultron. The city lifting, ground crumbling, people running and crying and yelling. There's no sound coming from them, but Tony doesn't need to hear it to remember it. He killed someone's son there. He caused devastation far greater than he could ever attempt to imagine.

 

“Is someone tracking this?” Pepper asks.

 

“I'm trying,” says Clint.

 

The screen stays showing the damage they left behind, but the next noise that comes over sets Tony's nerves on edge, makes him want to crawl out of his skin.

 

It's Peter. He's screaming.

 

“This,” the man says, “is what I'm talking about. These are the heroes you're looking up to? Well, tell me heroes, how does it feel now to watch one of your own suffer?”

 

When the footage changes again, Tony almost wishes it was still Sokovia. He wishes it was anything else, because all he can see now is Peter on the ground, his body seizing in pain, his arms bound behind him and his feet shackled together.

 

After another few seconds, the screaming stops. Peter goes limp, his air coming out sharp and fast, mixed between gasps and breathy sobs.

 

“Please,” he whispers.

 

 _Jesus Christ_ , Tony thinks. _Just leave him alone_.

 

“Please,” Peter says again, this time louder as he swallows hard. “P-Please, Tony. Don't l-let him g-get to you.”

 

The air leaves Tony all at once. Pepper looks at him. Wanda looks at him. The entire world is looking at him.

 

Peter starts screaming again.

 

“You fight for each other,” the man says. “You kill for each other. But what about the rest of us? When will we matter?”

 

“Clint,” Pepper says. It's no use. Even Clint has his eyes glued on the kid, no longer attempting to ping the signal. It will be bouncing across IPs, no doubt. This man is too smart to let something as simple as a camera feed get him caught.

 

Whatever is causing Peter to seize must stop again because he suddenly goes quiet and still. He doesn't move this time. He doesn't sound like he's even breathing.

 

“You will lose, Tony Stark,” the man says. “Everyone you've ever loved.”

 

The feed lingers another second on Peter before it dies. There's nothing there to counter it. The news has gone off the air, a trail of letters scrolling across the bottom to let viewers know they will be back soon. Once they figure out how to address this masked man torturing their friendly neighborhood superhero. Once they figure out how to address him torturing a child.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Tony breathes out.

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. takes what feels like an eternity to get back to him. “He's unresponsive.”

 

The vitals in front of him are settling into an odd arrangement of numbers. Blood pressure is high, temperature is low, and the breathing rate is falling in a way only unconsciousness can do. Peter's heartbeat is still there. Strong and steady, albeit way too fast, but there.

 

“Tony,” Pepper says, and her voice wavers, betrays her professional demeanor. “Whatever this guy wants, just … just give it to him.”

 

Tony sinks down onto a chair. The image of Peter is burned into his retinas. Bloody and battered and screaming in pain.

 

“He already has it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

iv.

 

 

 

Something snaps in him all at once.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., call Happy,” he says. “Now.”

 

“Calling Mr. Hogan.”

 

Happy's voice comes over the earpiece after a few rings. “What's up?”

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Where do you think I am? I'm getting the kid's aunt like you asked.”

 

“How _far_ , Hap?”

 

“We're about five minutes from the compound. Why?”

 

Tony glances toward where Clint is huddled in front of a screen, talking to a woman he vaguely recognizes. “Barton, come over here.” He turns his attention back to the call. “Happy, listen to me. You come _straight here_ , you got it? No pit stops. No detours. No tourist attractions. You get here as fast as you can and come straight inside.”

 

“Are you reprimanding me?” Happy asks. “You know I don't like being reprimanded. What's going on?”

 

“We've got a maniac on the loose is what's going on. Just get here.”

 

He ends the call as Clint approaches. Something akin to panic is fluttering in his stomach, making his hands twitch and shake. He tries to breathe it down. He has a job to do. He has people to protect. He can't busy himself with anxiety.

 

“Barton, I want you stationed on security. Get me more officers. I need people out there when Happy arrives and I need people in here watching Ms. Potts.”

 

“Tony,” Pepper starts, but he cuts her off.

 

“Get Rhodey back here too. Tell Cap to keep an eye on him. He's going to be the target of their group. I want everyone back at the compound effective immediately.”

 

Clint gives him a strange look, but he doesn't question Tony's sudden commands. “You got it,” he says.

 

Pepper is not so easy. Tony is acutely aware of her following him as he moves through people and throws directions to them, pulling up footage from the cameras set around the tower. “Tony, I've got a ton of press to deal with. You're not locking me away somewhere.”

 

“Not locking you away,” he says. “Keeping an eye on you.”

 

“I'm not a child.”

 

“I'm not saying you are.”

 

“You're not saying a lot of things.” She grabs his hand when he starts to swipe a finger across the screen in front of him. “Stop for a second and tell me what your plan is. Tell me what we're doing so I can help.”

 

Tony is sure Pepper can feel the trembles traveling down his arm. The feeling inside him swells, threatens to break free and send him somewhere only God knows where – whichever God is feeling particularly cruel today. To Tony, it feels like all of them.

 

“Okay, let's do a paint-by-numbers. We've got a crazy killer guy who no one can track. He's going after everyone I care about. I care about you. Connecting the dots here?”

 

Pepper's face softens. “Tony –”

 

“Pepper, just ...” Tony takes her other hand in his. “I've already almost lost you. I can't do it again. I'm not going to. The best thing you can do is stay safe and not give me something else to worry about.”

 

“Okay, okay,” she says gently. She pulls herself free of his grasp and touches the sides of his face. “I'll make sure I have security with me. I'll stay out of the line of fire. But I'm still going to do my job and handle this. Okay?”

 

He nods and she kisses him, just a soft brushing of lips, but it's all Tony needs.

 

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. “Peter is awake again.”

 

Pepper checks her watch. “You go take care of it. I've got work to do.”

 

He kisses her again, quickly, just because he can, and looks back at his screen. Peter's vitals have changed, picked up where they slowed down, slowed down where they were too fast. They aren't normal, not even close, but they are showing signs of consciousness again.

 

“Are you in contact with him?”

 

“I was,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. “I left for a moment. He wanted Karen to look at his heart.”

 

“His heart?”

 

“Yes. Electrocution can cause fibrillation as well as tissue damage. He is concerned about lasting effects.”

 

Tony feels his own pulse jump. He remembers the way Peter seized on the ground. Had that been electrocution? _Jesus Christ_. “What did Karen find?”

 

“There are no anomalies in his heart. He appears to be okay.”

 

“'Okay' is a relative word,” Tony mutters. “Hang here, F.R.I.D.A.Y. Tell Peter you'll be back in a few minutes. I've got his aunt coming in and I know he'll want to give her a message. I don't want you overheating the system before then. Did you get anything on facial recognition?”

 

“The last time Peter is seen is after he leaves the deli,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. She pulls up the exact moment on his screen – Peter crossing the street before he disappears. Tony watches it over again. “There is no match for the man.”

 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “How the hell is there no match?”

 

“He's wearing a mask in all the footage we have of him. I did, however, find out the car is registered to a New York City resident named Amy Johnson. She reported it stolen yesterday morning.”

 

Amy Johnson? Why does Tony know that name? He racks his memory. “Okay, fine. Find out where she reported it stolen from and get me a camera on it when it happened.”

 

“Yes, boss.”

 

He runs a hand over his face and takes a few seconds to breathe. How the hell did this happen? How did someone get close enough to him to figure out his relationship with Peter in the first place? It's not like Iron Man and Spider-Man have the most documented friendship. Mostly people like to bring up the clip of Tony in his suit swooping in to save the Staten Island Ferry after the kid split it in half. There had been no shots of Tony yelling at Peter later, because they'd disappeared onto a rooftop to take care of that.

 

Wait, how the hell does this guy even know who Peter is? There's something big Tony is missing here. He just didn't know what.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he hears Happy saying from one of the screens. “You guys got some badges?”

 

Tony rolls his eyes. He should have known better than to let his security team out there without identification. He activates the outside intercom. “Don't antagonize my guys, Happy.”

 

Happy looks up at the camera. “They started it.”

 

“I don't care,” Tony says. “Taylor Swift's squad, get everyone up here. This isn't an outside party.”

 

They get inside quickly. Tony keeps an eye on them until the doors shut securely. This is the moment he wants Pepper here, because May has nothing against Pepper and everything against Tony, and he's not entirely sure how he's going to deal with a frantic woman looking for her nephew. Especially when the reason her nephew has been kidnapped is because of Tony.

 

To his surprise, however, May is calm. It's a scary calm, her eyes rimmed red and her hair sticking up every which way – the sure signs she should be acting like a mental case, but she's not.

 

“I tried to call you,” she says quietly as way of a greeting. “When the first … when the first video came on. I tried to call you and they wouldn't patch me through.”

 

Tony can only nod. “They have a strict protocol not to let calls through in events like this.” This is the part where he should make some comment. Flirt a little or try to charm her. But nothing comes up. He just stands there looking at her, waiting for something to happen.

 

“Okay, so what should I do?” May asks. “What _can_ I do? How do we find him?”

 

Tony snaps out of his funk. “We're working on that,” he says. “But for now, you can talk to him. Come here.”

 

He brings her over to his station and has her sit at the desk.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” he says. “This is May Parker. May, this is F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

 

“It's nice to meet you, Miss Parker,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says.

 

May jumps a little at the disembodied voice.

 

“She's an artificial intelligence system,” Tony explains before she can ask. “Peter has one inside his suit as well, but the system is being blocked by something. F.R.I.D.A.Y found a back door into it. She can talk to the A.I. in Peter's suit for a few minutes, but she can't be in contact long because she'll overload the system and we could lose all communication with him.”

 

May cocks an eyebrow at him. “What does that mean exactly?”

 

“It means you can talk to Peter through her.”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice comes over again. “I've already told him you are here, Miss Parker. He wanted me to tell you not to freak out. He also wants to know if you're safe.”

 

May lets out a watery laugh. Tony excuses himself then to give them privacy, reminding F.R.I.D.A.Y. to get out when it starts to overheat, and finds Happy talking to a couple security officers. When Happy sees him, he breaks away.

 

“What's going on, Tony?” he asks. “Why am I hearing I'm on lock down?”

 

“It's not a lock down,” Tony says. “More like a joyful house arrest.”

 

“You put 'arrest' in a sentence and it's not joyful. Are you getting a little _Misery_ on me?”

 

“Cat's out of the bag. All the billionaires snap eventually, don't they?”

 

“Yeah, but you've still got five, maybe ten years. Seriously, what's going on?”

 

“Look.” Tony is getting real tired of spelling out the obvious. Not only that, he's getting real tired of having to expose himself as something even close to emotionally stable enough to sustain relationships in his life. “I've got a killer who wants to destroy everyone I care about it. If you make me tell you that you're one of those people, I'll wipe you out myself. Oh, wait.”

 

Happy's face softens the way Pepper's did, but Happy, for his part, doesn't coddle him. “Okay,” he says.

 

“Okay?”

 

“Yeah. I get it. I'm a target and you want to keep me out of range. I'll stay close to the ground and help out in here. I'll try to find out if there's another way we can track the kid.”

 

 _That's right_ , Tony reminds himself. _Happy has just as much investment in this as I do_. Happy is supposed to be Peter's point guard. Tony assigned him to watch over Peter, and he hasn't thought about how guilty Happy must feel knowing Peter went missing on his watch.

 

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. “You have a visitor coming up the stairs.”

 

Tony whirls around, ready to chew F.R.I.D.A.Y. out for letting someone in without his permission, but the familiar face that greets him makes him feel relieved in a way he hasn't felt since before the first broadcast interrupted his party.

 

“I, uh, heard you might need a hand.”

 

Tony smirks. “It's about damn time you showed up.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Peter rolls carefully onto his side and wiggles his hands.

 

“Hey, Karen?” he says. “How is F.R.I.D.A.Y talking to you?”

 

“She has located a back door into my system.”

 

He winces slightly at the pull in his shoulders as he slides his hands down, getting them under his thighs.

 

“So, theoretically speaking, could you get out that back door too?” He grunts, stopping for a moment to readjust. God, everything still hurts.

 

“In theory, yes,” says Karen. “Doors open from both ends. If Mr. Stark's A.I. can get through, I should be able to as well. But I'm not sure where this door is located in my coding.”

 

“Ten bucks says we can find it.” Peter brings his knees close to his chest and shimmies his hands over his bound feet, moving until they're in front of him. “Oh, hell.” He brings his shackled wrists forward and stretches them over his head. It feels better than he ever could have imagined to be able to move his limbs more freely.

 

“Are you okay?” Karen asks.

 

“I'm good.” Peter sits up and examines his bindings. His heart sinks. _Oh no. No, no, no, no, no_. “Karen, this isn't steel. It's vibranium.”

 

“I'm sorry, Peter. My sensors are hindered here. My scanning function is not working properly.”

 

Peter swallows hard. “That's okay,” he mumbles. “Just means I can't break my way out of these.”

 

“They appear to have a locking mechanism on them. If you can find something small to fit in the keyhole, you might be able to open them that way.”

 

“They don't teach lock picking at my school.” He looks around. The room is big, bigger than his apartment probably, but the only door into has no handle on his end. It's something he noticed the first time the man came through it. It's not designed for him to be able to use. But there are windows. High, skinny windows at the top of the wall letting in the sun. And now that he has his hands in front of them, he has a way to reach them.

 

“Karen, can I still climb? Is there anything blocking me from that?”

 

“There's nothing that appears to be, but I recommend starting small to make sure it works.”

 

Peter doesn't believe in starting small. He gets himself to his feet and hops his way to the wall. He presses his fingers to the surface. It's awkward, since he can't spread his hands enough to touch his palms down to gain more leverage, but he starts climbing anyway.

 

It takes an eternity for him to reach the top. With the way his wrists are stuck together, he can only move a few inches at a time, and his feet offer him little help as well. Still, he makes it to one of the windows and peers outside.

 

He sees water.

 

“Whoa,” he mutters. “Are we still in New York?” It's somewhere close to a city, he knows. Across the waterline, he can see buildings rising up toward the sky, and the view looks strangely familiar. “Hey, Karen, can you tell if this is normal glass?”

 

“It appears to be,” says Karen. “I can't say for sure.”

 

“I'm gonna try to break through it. Cap said if I can get outside they'll be able to find me. Let's make it a little easier on them.”

 

Peter shifts his weight. He pauses, calculating the position he needs to be in to get the best momentum, when a sharp pain shoots through him.

 

His vision blacks out. His fingers lose their grip. The next thing he knows, he's slamming into the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs.

 

“You shouldn't have done that,” he hears the man say.

 

He gasps, trying to pull air back into his chest. Everything is fuzzy around the edges, too dull and lifeless to make sense of. His head swims.

 

“It looks as if you have a concussion,” Karen says. "You should try to remain still."

 

That's not a choice he's about to be in control of.

 

“K-Karen,” he whispers, hoping the man won't hear. “When you …" He winces and bites back a moan. "When you t-talk to F.R.I.D.A.Y again, c-can you give my a-aunt another message?”

 

"Of course, Peter. What's the message?"

 

Peter watches the man move closer. He has the little black remote in his hand, the one Peter has come to associate with the horrible shocks that make him feel like he's dying. There's anger burning in the man's expression now and Peter realizes too late how big of a mistake he just made.

 

He sets his jaw and closes his eyes, feeling wetness pool behind them. “Tell her I love her.”

 

The man clicks the remote.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

v.

 

 

 

“Dr. Banner.” Tony shakes his hand. “I'm glad you're here.”

 

Bruce gives him a tentative smile, glancing around the room. “You can thank Natasha for that.”

 

“I can thank her for a lot of things,” says Tony, but he makes a mental note to pull Natasha aside and _actually_ thank her once she gets back. Calling Bruce Banner was a stroke of genius. Literally. Bruce's smarts are easily at the same level as Tony, and having someone that speaks the same language as him is going to make his life a lot easier.

 

He brings Bruce over to his setup. “Do I need to give you the 'as seen on' version of this or do you already know?”

 

“Natasha caught me up,” says Bruce. “And I … saw the videos. Where's the rest of the team?”

 

“They're coming back. I'm sticking everyone in the compound until I get more information.”

 

“Hmm.” Bruce doesn't comment on his plan. He just moves to one of the screens and pulls up a window. “Can you access the binary code in Peter's suit?”

 

“I have it on file,” Tony says. He slides a finger across the smooth surface and shifts through the menus until he pulls up the familiar set of numbers. “Don't think the instructions will do you any good though. There's a firewall up around everything. I'm running an encryption code right now, but even my tech is having a hard time breaking through.”

 

“Your tech broke into S.H.I.E.LD's security and it can't get through this?” There's curiosity where Tony expects anger. Bruce drums his nails along his bottom lip. “Give me a minute. Let me see what I can find.”

 

“Take all the time you need. Except, you know, don't, because we've got a kid out there.”

 

“I understand.”

 

Tony doesn't want to hover. Well, he does, but he decides giving Bruce some space will be better for both of them. He needs a minute anyway. The tightness in his chest has eased slightly since the arrival of his friend, but the panic is still looming close by and if he doesn't get control of it now he's sure it will come back for him.

 

He starts his way toward the stairs and F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice rings out. “Boss.”

 

Tony stops. “What is it?”

 

“Peter's heart rate and blood pressure are elevating quickly.”

 

“Did you make the system too hot? Can you get back in?”

 

“I'm trying,” says F.R.I.D.A.Y, “But I can't reach him.”

 

“What do you mean you can't reach him?”

 

“I think –” she breaks off. Tony waits a beat, but she doesn't come back.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

 

“He's being shocked again.”

 

This causes Bruce to perk up in confusion. Tony is still close enough to hear him when he says, “Electric shocks?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony says. He tries to even his breathing. The kid is being tortured right now and there's nothing he can do. He glances at the monitors playing the news and waits for the feed to turn. “Kid said he was being electrocuted. He asked Karen to look at his heart.”

 

“If this is the same thing as before, I don't think he's being electrocuted.”

 

“Why?”

 

“If there was that much electricity going through him and it was current and live, he wouldn't be able to …” Bruce pauses a moment, his face contorting as if he's not sure what words he should say next. “... makes as much noise as he did. His muscles would be paralyzed.”

 

“Then what the hell is happening?”

 

“I'm not sure. It might still be electricity, but maybe impulses. Short shocks placed closed together could allow him to jolt as much as he was. Actually, that would make more sense. Still dangerous to the heart. But the amount of voltage needed to cause as much pain as it is would be immense.”

 

Tony pushes his knuckles into his eyes. This isn't something he wants to be discussing right now. It doesn't really matter to him what's actually happening to Peter. The only thing that matters is it's hurting him.

 

“We'll figure it out later,” he says. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, is it still happening?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Shit.” His hands shake. “Just … just tell me when it's over.”

 

“Yes, boss.”

 

“I don't understand,” a voice says from behind him. Tony whirls around. It's Steve. In his arms is the heat seeking drone, which has been relatively destroyed by what Tony assumes was the bomb. He's covered in soot. “Why is he torturing him this time and not broadcasting it?”

 

Tony does a quick head count. Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, Sam. Everyone is here and alive.

 

Rhodey steps between them and places a hand on Tony's shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze.

 

“Way to make an entrance,” Tony says. He claps Rhodey's shoulder too. It's the only real communication they need.

 

Steve nods at Bruce. “Dr. Banner. Always a pleasure.”

 

“You too, Cap,” Bruce says.

 

“As for the kid,” says Tony, “I don't really know what's happening. No live feed has come over. F.R.I.D.A.Y, do you know what he was doing before this started?”

 

There's silence a few seconds. “Karen says he made it to a window. He was about to break it. She says he saw water outside and didn't know if he was still in New York or not.”

 

“Water,” Tony says to himself. His mind reels. He hurries over to the monitor closest to him. “Can you pull up the time stamp of when Peter disappeared?”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y does. Tony brings up a map of New York. “Show me when we lose the car.”

 

“What are you doing?” Rhodey asks.

 

“Look.” Tony turns the screen toward him. “Look at the time when we lose him completely. The first video came out about an hour after that. If he can see water, he can't be that far.”

 

Rhodey pinches the map, zooming in on it. “That guy went from Queens to Brooklyn. He was heading southwest. The kid could be along the shoreline here.”

 

“Unless they crossed the bridge into Staten Island,” Steve says.

 

“There's a toll booth over there,” says Natasha. “I'll see if I can pull up the security footage from it.”

 

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupts. “The shocks have stopped.”

 

Tony brings Peter's vitals up. They're still too high. F.R.I.D.A.Y tells him the duration was too much for Peter, who is unconscious and unresponsive. It sends a painful reminder to Tony that May is still here and he has completely forgotten. He turns around to look for her, but it doesn't take long to find her talking to Happy. He can't tell if she heard F.R.I.D.A.Y or not.

 

Steve drops the drone onto a desk and follows his gaze. “Is that his aunt?”

 

“Yeah,” Tony says, distracted. Happy sends him a look he can't make out.

 

“She's younger than I thought she'd be.”

 

“Everyone is young when you're pushing a hundred, Cap.”

 

“Watch it, Stark. You're not getting any younger either.”

 

Bruce clears his throat. “Tony, can I ask a rhetorical question?”

 

“Uh huh,” says Tony.

 

“If someone else was using your firewall, how easy would it be for you to hack into it?”

 

This gets Tony's attention. He turns to face him. “Are we talking royal 'you' or actually me?”

 

“Actually you.”

 

“Everything is heavily encrypted. I'd be able to do it, but it wouldn't be easy. I've stepped up the security codes lately in light of recent events. It would depend what I was trying to hack into it I guess.”

 

“What if it was your suit?”

 

“That would be nearly impossible.” He eyes Bruce carefully. “Why?”

 

Bruce beckons him over into a place where there's more room, around a corner where they are mostly out of sight. “F.R.I.D.A.Y,” he says. “Can you do that thing where you show us what you look like?”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y does. She appears as a ball, intricate strings of gold lights that weave and mesh together.

 

“Thank you. Now can you also bring up Karen?”

 

Karen is smaller in comparison to F.R.I.D.A.Y. A red ball, with just as many complex parts making it up, but only half the size.

 

“And now can you show us the firewall inside both of you?”

 

The colors change, glowing blue where the network systems live.

 

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

 

“You're welcome, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce steps between the two balls and brings Tony closer. “I was looking at the binary code on Karen and realized it was really similar to F.R.I.D.A.Y. It makes sense, because they are both created by you. But when I looked at the firewall keeping us from accessing Peter's A.I. I noticed something too.”

 

Tony examines the lights. He sees it right away. They are almost exactly the same.

 

“This guy set up this security on his own, but it looks really similar to the one on F.R.I.D.A.Y, doesn't it?”

 

“This doesn't make sense,” Tony says. “Unless he manipulated my codes and turned it against me. Even then, it wouldn't be that similar or easy. I'd still be able to get into it.”

 

“Exactly. But because you can't, it makes me thinks it can't be the same. He'd have to have your credentials to get inside your firewall and lock you out. And I doubt your password is as easy as 1-2-3-4.”

 

“No, I changed it to 'password.' Much more secure. So what are we thinking? If he an admirer? Copying my tech protocols?”

 

“I was thinking more like a stalker.”

 

“Aren't they the same?”

 

“Maybe to you.”

 

Tony twists his lips into a smile and returns his attention back to the display of lights. It doesn't make sense.

 

What is he missing?

 

He waves away the balls and heads back into the main room with Bruce. Natasha is perched at Clint's station, looking through footage, and Tony can see a picture of a woman on the top of her screen, the name “Amy Johnson” written above it. He's about to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y if she ever found out where the car was when it was stolen, but then Sam steps behind Natasha, peers close at the woman, and says, “Hey, I know her. I went to school with her.”

 

It hits Tony so hard he loses his breath.

 

The reason he recognizes her name is because Sam mentioned her at the party they had last month. He remembers Sam trying to lift the hammer, trying to convince it he was worthy by telling it about the time he didn't sleep with Amy even though he could have.

 

Everything makes sense now.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” he says. “Lock down the tower. Now. No one gets in or out without my permission.”

 

The demand has Steve moving toward him in a flash. Bruce's face morphs with nervousness.

 

“Uh, Tony, what're you doing?”

 

“Grab that drone, Cap,” Tony says. Steve stops. He hesitates a second but loops back to grab it from the desk. “What's going on, Stark?”

 

Tony makes him set it down on the table in front of him. He ransacks a nearby drawer and finds a screwdriver.

 

“Cap, do you remember when we were all trying to lift the hammer and the kid did it by accident?” He flips the drone over and shoves the tip into its belly.

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“Let me fill you in,” Tony says to Bruce. “Wilson over there decided it was best to try to convince the hammer we were worthy instead of letting it decide itself. He told it a story about a girl named Amy Johnson.”

 

Bruce's eyes flicker toward Natasha's monitor. “ _That_ Amy Johnson?”

 

“The same.” Tony pries open the hatch of the drone. He can feel his pulse in his fingertips. _Shit shit shit_. “Cap, do you know how you get a million dollar drone to see something that isn't there?”

 

“I don't know. You break it somehow?” says Steve.

 

“You're right.” Tony reaches inside the drone's body and feels around. “And you know how you break a drone when you can't hack into it?” He finds what he's looking for and rips it free. A small piece of plastic, light green. He lifts it up. “You crack it open and put a bug inside.”

 

Steve accepts it when he hands it over and looks closely at it.

 

“Amy Johnson is a trap. He wanted us to go check her out. More than that, he wanted him to go check her out.” Tony motions toward Sam. “Because they have a connection. And he could have taken him out in a second.”

 

“I'm not following you,” Steve says.

 

“This guy was at the party,” Tony says. “There's a reason his firewall looks almost identical to mine. It's because it is. You know how you get a bug into a drone inside Avengers Tower? You have to physically go to it.”

 

It's Bruce who connects the dots. “So none of this is coincidence,” he says. “He was in the tower. That guy – wait, that means ...”

 

Tony nods. The people around him continue on with their searches, oblivious, unaware. “He's one of my team members.”

 

* * *

 

 

vi.

 

 

  
“F.R.I.D.A.Y, earpiece,” Tony says. He sends a look to Steve. "Cap, watch my back.”

 

Steve is understandably confused, but he tracks Tony as he makes his way to the window and pretends to gaze out and steps in behind him, keeping the rest of the room in his view. Sam slides in beside him and mutters something Tony can't hear, but it helps create the image he's looking for. Casual. Unaware.

 

“Yes, boss?” F.R.I.D.A.Y says in his ear.

 

“I want you to get everyone out,” says Tony, quietly. “Create some excuse, but don't make it obvious there's something going on. If they aren't an Avenger or Avenger in-law, they need to go. You understand me?”

 

“Yes, boss. What about the guards stationed around the premises?”

 

“Run a background check on them. If they have access inside every room in the tower, they're out. We've been compromised and I don't want to risk the chance of having another traitor in our midst. While we're at it, get a history of everyone who works for me. See who's lost someone recently and might be making it personal.”

 

“Got it.”

 

 

 

It takes twenty minutes to clear the place out. F.R.I.D.A.Y scans the building to check for anyone left, and only after she's done does Tony gather everyone, Happy and Pepper and May included, and tell them what's going on.

 

“Someone from the team?” Pepper asks, sounding astonished. “That's new.”

 

Steve stands with his arms crossed over his chest. “So you're thinking he might not be working alone?”

 

“It's not a risk I want to take," says Tony. "Anything we need to find we can do it ourselves. Bruce, you're still looking at the firewall, right? And Natasha, how's it coming with the tracking?”

 

“I'm still looking through footage,” Natasha says.

 

“Get back to it. Let me know what you find.”

 

She gives a curt nod, throws a look at Bruce, who doesn't meet her eyes, and slinks her way back over to her station where Clint joins her. Tony doesn't have time to play love doctor right now, but he sticks a pin in it for later, determined to make them both uncomfortable about it as soon as he can.

 

“I've got some observations,” Bruce says.

 

“Hit me.”

 

“That's probably not a good idea.” Bruce steps up to a monitor and turns it around. Everyone is watching him. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you pull up the first video of Peter? And mute it, please.”

 

“Here you go, Dr. Banner," F.R.I.D.A.Y says.

 

“Thanks.” Bruce taps on the screen, pauses the image so they can see an unconscious Spider-Man laying at the feet of the masked guy.

 

“He's wearing his suit,” Bruce says.

 

Tony blinks. “Yeah? That's kind of part of his whole spiel.”

 

“No, no, I mean, remember when he disappeared? When the guy originally grabbed him in Queens?”

 

Steve says, “He was dressed like a civilian. He looked like he just came from school.”

 

“Exactly.” Bruce zooms in the image. “And Peter said he was knocked unconscious before he was taken to where he is.”

 

“Are you saying this guy gave the kid a chance to change into his suit?”

 

“He must have. If we assume Peter had his suit in his backpack, which –” Bruce looks at Tony, who nods his head. Of course Peter had his suit with him. He's always packing, always ready to go. “– okay, sounds like he did. So there was some point where Peter was conscious enough to put it on and fight. He was already injured by the time the first video went out.”

 

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “So this guy wanted a fight?”

 

“Maybe. Or he wanted to test something out. Look at this.” Bruce brings the picture closer, focuses in on one of the holes. “I was looking at the fabric and it's not designed to rip, right?”

 

“Right,” says Tony. “It's supposed to withstand impact.”

 

“But would it survive something, say, alien? Technology from another world?”

 

It's not a new concept. Tony tried to prepare for everything when he designed the suit, and then tried to fix everything he might have missed when he designed the Iron one. But Peter isn't wearing that one. Peter didn't accept that one. So Tony isn't sure what kind of tech would be able to rip through this.

 

“You think he works for Damage Control?” Rhodey asks.

 

“I don't know,” says Bruce. “He certainly has access to something powerful. And there's no doubt he wanted to show the world Spider-Man and not Peter Parker. Maybe he needed it to subdue Peter. Or maybe – oh.”

 

“Oh?” Tony asks. “What 'oh'?”

 

“It's coming from the suit.” Bruce closes the video and opens another window, types in a series of codes that take Tony a moment to figure out.

 

“Oh.” He gets it now. “Shit.”

 

Steve looks between them. “You want to tell us normal people what's going on? No offense, Vis.”

 

Vision, who Tony didn't even realize was there, gives a small smile. “If I may,” he says, stepping forward. “It seems that Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark believe whatever is shocking Peter is coming from inside his suit.”

 

Tony refuses to meet May's eyes. He can feel her gaze on him already, burning into him, accusing him. What the hell has he done? The entire reason Peter is suffering is because of Tony's own creation. The thing that was supposed to keep him safe. The thing that was supposed to protect him.

 

His throat swells. He swallows against the cotton feeling in his mouth. “Okay. Okay, so –”

 

“Stark,” Clint says from his station. “We've got incoming.”

 

Before Tony can ask what he means, the screen near the wall in front of them morphs from the news into the warehouse. He expects to see an unconscious teenage boy, because Peter was still out the last he checked, but what he finds is so much worse.

 

They turn the volume up.

 

The man is standing in front of the camera, holding a body against him, one arm wrapped around their chest to keep them standing. The body is Peter, and not only is he awake, his mask is off.

 

 _Shit shit shit shit_.

 

“I wouldn't worry about secret identities,” says Clint, reading everyone's fear. “This signal is coming straight to us and only us.”

 

The relief is washed away in the span of a thought. If this signal is for Tony, it can't mean anything good.

 

“Say something to them,” the man says.

 

Peter locks his jaw. He keeps his gaze focused up toward the ceiling, his mouth held in weary determination. His hair is a curly mess, plastered to his forehead. His face is bloodless, his eye turning purple, his lip split down the middle. Still, he doesn't move.

 

The man shoves a hand into his hair and yanks his head back.

 

“Say. Something.” He pulls again, making Peter wince. “You have nothing you want to tell them? Nothing you want to say to Tony Stark? You were so eager before to tell him your little message. Don't let me get to him, huh? Well, Peter, I have a little secret for you.”

 

Peter tenses under his hold. The man rips his hair so hard even Tony can feel it.

 

He moves his lips close to the kid's ear and smiles. “I already got to him,” he whispers.

 

It happens before Tony can process it. Peter's fingers turn into his palms, and then he's swinging his bound wrists up and hitting the man in the face with enough force it sends the guy reeling and staggering to his knees.

 

“Oh shit,” someone breathes.

 

Peter stands perplexed for a moment. He's swaying, blinking harshly, and it isn't until Bruce says, “Look at his eyes. His right pupil is blown,” that Tony realizes why he isn't moving yet.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, is he concussed?”

 

“Yes,” says F.R.I.D.A.Y.

 

“Christ, kid,” Rhodey mutters. “Run.”

 

As if Peter can hear him, he grounds himself and looks around. His feet are still shackled together, and Tony watches him try to work through the fogginess in his brain. He crouches slightly, aiming toward somewhere outside of where they can see, and leaps.

 

And shit, if Peter is about to escape, Tony needs to be prepared. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, get ready to run a facial scan. I want to know where he is the moment we can get eyes on him.”

 

“Got it, boss.”

 

“Someone needs to be out there,” Steve says. “Vision is our fastest. Vis, if you can head out toward the coastline, we'll send you the coordinates. Just get Peter to safety. We'll be right behind you.”

 

Vision nods, but he makes no motion to leave. He's watching the screen, and when Tony turns his attention back to it he can hear Peter letting out a string of curses he's sure the kid wouldn't be happy to know May can hear.

 

“The window,” he hears Peter mutter. There's no sense of space from their end. Is the window unable to shatter? Or is Peter in the wrong place?

 

The man pushes himself to his feet. He has his wits about him again, Tony can tell, and he storms off in Peter's direction. There's a second where they hear Peter gasp and choke like he's in pain, and then he's being dragged into the frame and shoved against the back wall.

 

“You're gonna pay for that,” the man says. He smothers a hand over Peter's mouth and pushes him further into the cement. “You don't wanna talk? Fine.” He pulls something from his pocket, a small, silver rectangle, and brings it toward Peter's neck.

 

Peter's eyes widen. He lets out a startled sound behind the palm blocking his lips and then his entire body goes limp. Even the grip on him keeping him quiet isn't enough to save him from falling. He slides down the wall.

 

The man is breathing hard when he turns to face the camera again. He holds up the device. “Recognize this, Tony?”

 

The air rushes from Tony's lungs. Of course he recognizes it. He invented it.

 

“Stark,” says Steve. “What is that?”

 

Tony doesn't answer. He watches the man pull two plugs from his ears and stick everything in his pocket. Behind him, Peter is pale, shocked. The paralysis won't last long on him. Not with his healing powers as strong as they are. Tony's mildly surprised it even worked at all.

 

Peter's arms twitch.

 

“You thought you got rid of these, but you forgot one,” the man says. “Too bad they never got government approval. I like them.”

 

He dips down and grabs Peter's mask, shoves it over the kid's head. Then he sticks a key into the shackles on his wrists and pops them open. Peter's hands move, only slightly. There's nothing he can do.

 

The man tips Peter forward onto his stomach, mutters, in a soft voice he has to think they can't hear, “I'm sorry,” and pulls Peter's arms back, locking them behind him.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Tony says. “Talk to him. Tell him to breathe. Tell him it should only last for a few minutes.”

 

Peter is rolled onto his side, his legs bent at an angle. The man steps out of frame, and it's in this moment Tony can tell F.R.I.D.A.Y has managed her way into the suit. Peter's chest expands.

 

“Keep him breathing,” he says. “He needs to be conscious of it.”

 

 _Trust me, I've been there_ , he wants to say. He doesn't.

 

“Tony, what the hell is happening to him?” Steve asks.

 

The man is back, wrapping a chain around Peter's already bound wrists and then it pulling it around his waist three times, pinning the limbs to his body.

 

“Temporary paralysis,” Tony says. “It shouldn't last that long with his abilities.”

 

“I thought we destroyed all the sonic tasers,” Rhodey says.

 

“Apparently not.”

 

Peter breathes again, a strange, muffled noise coming from his mouth. Bruce moves closer to the screen.

 

“Look at his hands,” he says.

 

Wanda steps beside him. “They're shaking,” she says, tilting her head. “He's … scared?”

 

They're not talking about Peter, Tony realizes with a start. They're talking about the man.

 

“Why would he be scared?” Pepper asks. “He has what he wants.”

 

“No, he doesn't,” Steve says. “He wants us. He set traps for us and we're not taking them. He's running out of options.”

 

Something prickles along Tony's spine. Cornering this guy is the last thing he wants. Fear might make him snap. Might make him kill Peter before they have a chance to find him.

 

Bruce reads his mind. “I don't think he'll kill him. He needs him. He's the only thing he's got to threaten us.”

 

“Doesn't mean he won't accidentally do it,” Clint mutters. At least someone is thinking along the same lines as Tony.

 

The man shifts Peter onto his back. He places two fingers under his neck, tilts his chin up.

 

“Is he … ” Sam stops, peers closer. “Jesus. He looks like he's opening his airway.”

 

Tony asks F.R.I.D.A.Y if she's still in contact. She is.

 

“Is he choking?”

 

“No.”

 

Peter mumbles something, too low for the camera to pick up.

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y says, “He says his chest is tight. Karen says he's having a hard time pulling in breaths.”

 

“Tell him it's normal. If he can talk already it shouldn't last much longer. Make him focus, F.R.I.D.A.Y. I know it's hard, but he needs to focus.”

 

Around them, the lights flicker. On screen, Peter folds his fingers inward.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

 

The man approaches the camera. He gives them a smirk and hits a button on the side. The feed goes dead.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, you have to get out.”

 

She doesn't respond. An alert flashes over the screen.

 

 _Warning_ , it says, _systems overheating_.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y! Now!”

 

“Yes, boss,” she says. Monitors spring to life. Everything brightens, surges, and then shuts off completely, submerging them in total silence.

 

Tony fumbles uselessly to bring something back.

 

Nothing comes.

 

They might have just lost their only connection with the kid.

 

* * *

 

 

“Peter,” says Karen. “Your heart rate is elevating very fast.”

 

“I'm okay.” Peter pulls at his wrists, twisting in his bonds as much as he can, his limbs slowly waking up. It takes all his energy to form words, to push them past the vice in his chest. “I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm okay.”

 

His lungs sting. Tears prick at his eyes, and he yanks frantically at every restraint. He's trapped. He's stuck and he wants to move, wants to stretch out his limbs, wants to do something but he can't. _Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god_.

 

“Take a breath, Peter.”

 

His breath comes out as a sob. “I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.” He's crying.

 

Karen's voice is gentle. “It appears you are having an anxiety attack. I will keep monitor of your vitals. I want you to know you are not in any immediate danger. Try to calm yourself. Mr. Stark said it will only take a few minutes for the paralysis to completely wear off.”

 

Peter squeezes his eyes closed. He's aware the man is somewhere near him, maybe watching him, maybe planning something else. He doesn't care. He just wants to move. He just wants to go home.

 

“Peter,” Karen says. “Breathe.”

 

He does.

 

The man says, “Are you ready for our next show?”

 

Peter opens his eyes. The man is standing near the camera, looking at him. He looks … Peter doesn't know. Scared? Sad? Anxious?

 

“You don't have to do this,” Peter whispers, biting back a sob. “I've lost people too,” he says. “I lost my parents. My uncle. I know how it feels. But trust me, revenge doesn't make it better. Revenge won't bring them back.”

 

The man stares at him. His expression crumples, just for a flash, just quick enough for Peter to see it.

 

Then he straightens up and touches the camera.

 

“I'm sorry, kid,” he says. The red light turns on.

 

 

* * *

 

vii.

 

 

 

Peter misses something.

 

He can't hear most of what the man is saying. Only the occasional word or two makes it through the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. He's still crying, still gasping out breaths and waiting for the last remains of the paralysis to seep away.

 

“Peter,” Karen says. “You are starting to overheat. I can still access the cooling feature. Would you like me to blow air through the suit?”

 

“I can't – what if I – what if you –” Tears drip down the back of his throat. He coughs and chokes.

 

“Take another breath,” says Karen. “I am keeping close watch of your vitals. I will not do anything to harm you.”

 

He makes a noise of agreement and lays his cheek against the cement.

 

“It's time for them to be afraid,” the man says.

 

Peter braces himself for pain that never comes. Air circulates through the suit. He calms himself enough he is no longer struggling to pull in air, but the tears don't stop. Then there are hands on him, rolling up his mask to his nose, and he feels something being plastered over his mouth.

 

“This will help,” the man says quietly. “I just need you to be quiet for a minute.”

 

It's duct tape. The man folds the mask back down.

 

Peter's heart rate quickens. A distressed sound escapes from somewhere deep in his stomach, blocked by the sticky substance keeping his lips together. A new wave of panic crashes through him and he pulls at his restraints, pulls at the chain forcing his wrists to stay where they are.

 

Karen comes over again. “Peter, breathe through your nose,” she says, because Peter isn't really breathing at all. He's suffocating.

 

He lets out a muffled sob.

 

“It's okay,” Karen says. “Just breathe. You have to breathe.”

 

Peter doesn't get a chance. Before he can focus himself enough to try, a series of shocks pulse through his body. He seizes, though the current is not as strong as it usually is, and drops back to the floor once it's gone. His vision darkens along the edges.

 

 

The next thing he knows, his mask is being pulled off, the tape ripped free, and something that feels like a glass is pushed up against his teeth.

 

“Drink this,” the man says, and then, at Peter's hesitation, adds, “It's just water.”

 

Peter is too tired to care. The cold liquid soothes his aching throat, and he drinks until the glass is pulled away.

 

“Thanks,” he chokes out.

 

The man rises from his crouched position and heads over to fiddle with the camera. Peter watches him wearily.

 

“Who did you lose?” he asks. He's not sure why.

 

The man glances at him. “What?”

 

“You lost someone,” Peter says, coughing a little. “Who did you lose?”

 

A moment of silence. “It's none of your business.”

 

“Hmmm.” Peter closes his eyes again. There is still air blowing around him and he knows it will start to get too cold soon but he has no way of telling Karen now to turn it off. He wonders if she'll do it herself. If she'll wait until his temperature gets to a certain point and then cut the flow.

 

“My wife,” the man says in a soft voice. “And my daughter.”

 

The sound makes Peter jump. The man's mask is gone when Peter opens his eyes, and he squints, blinking quickly, the face distantly familiar.

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispers.

 

“Yeah.” The man runs a hand back through his scraggly hair. Images click in Peter's mind.

 

He says, “I know you.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You work for Mr. Stark.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“I recognize you,” he says sleepily. “I've seen you around the tower before. You were at the party.”

 

There's another moment where no one moves, and Peter worries he's said the wrong thing, somehow upset the man who tried for this long to be anonymous.

 

But then the man lets out a small laugh. “You lifted Thor's hammer.”

 

“It was an accident,” Peter mumbles.

 

“Jesus Christ.” The man looks at him a long time. “How old are you, kid? I know you're in high school, but Stark never told anyone more than that.”

 

“'m fifteen.”

 

“Fifteen?” He lets out a few curses. Peter feels himself drifting away.

 

“How old was she?” he wonders airily. “Your daughter?”

 

“... twenty.”

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispers again. “She was young,” he says, and lets the darkness pull him away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Little by little the tower comes back to life. Lights turn on, sub-systems restart, generators hum. Tony hasn't yet installed self-sustaining power in the compound – it's still in the works, still in the process of being secured, since they all know how well it 'sustained' them during Loki's fiasco – so he has to wait for everything to start again.

 

The first thing he does when the computers boot up is try to check Peter's vitals. Clint checks the news feeds to see if they've missed another video. May is … well, May is pissed. Her eyes are wet and her arms are crossed over her chest and she's seething, just absolutely dripping with emotions.

 

“He thinks he's gonna die,” she tells him.

 

Tony pauses. “What?”

 

“He had F.RI.D.A.Y give me a message, before … before the last round of … and he told me he loved me.” She stares hard at the screen he's in front of. There is no information about Peter's vitals.

 

“You find my kid, Tony Stark,” she says. “You find him and you bring him back here.”

 

Tony nods. He's trying.

 

 

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you hear me?” he asks.

 

A pause, and then, “Yes, boss.”

 

Tony breathes out in relief. “Great. I'm glad you're back. But listen, if you ever do that again I'm going to factory reset you so hard you'll think you're a different day of the week. Did you fry Karen?”

 

“No, boss. When I realized I wouldn't be able to get out in time I shut down my systems. Karen is still fully functioning.”

 

“Then why can't I see Peter's vitals? Is he ...”

 

“He's alive,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says. “He's okay. It's just taking a minute to connect to the suit and display it. Not everything has finished restarting yet.”

 

“Tony.”

 

Tony turns at the sound of his name. Steve and Sam and Wanda and Natasha are standing in front of one of the TVs, and Tony's heart plummets. He steps away from his station and moves beside them. On the screen, the man talks to the camera. On the ground where they last saw him, Peter wheezes.

 

“Is this live?” Tony asks.

 

Natasha shakes her head.

 

“For years they have made us fear for our lives,” the man says. “It's time for a change. It's time for us to stand up for ourselves. It's time for them to be afraid.”

 

Peter is muttering things under his breath. The man grabs something from outside the frame and turns back to him, yanking up his mask to reveal his mouth. Tape unrolls, a piece torn off and shoved over Peter's lips. The man says something to him Tony can't hear and then he pulls the mask down and returns to the camera.

 

Tony processes nothing else he says. He watches Peter struggle against his bonds, watches his chest hitch like he can't pull in air. The man fingers a black remote. He seems distracted by the noises escaping the kid. When Peter lets out a sob, the man falters, stumbles over his sentence, and hits one of the buttons.

 

Peter seizes. He doesn't scream. He doesn't cry out. He just seizes and falls back to the ground.

 

The man looks at him and turns the camera off without another word.

 

“Fucking hell,” Sam says.

 

“He's overwhelmed,” Wanda says, and Tony doesn't know who she's talking about.

 

Pepper comes bustling into the room. She touches Tony's arm to get his attention.

 

“I have an idea." She types something on her phone and brings it to her ear. “Take a shower and meet me downstairs in twenty minutes for a press conference.”

 

“A press conference?”

 

“This guy is trying to turn people against the Avengers. So let's fight fire with fire. Let's turn the tables on him.”

 

“Please stop making analogies,” Tony says. He kisses her in the middle of her trying to talk to someone else and hurries off.

 

 

 

Twenty minutes later he's standing at a podium in front of a room of reporters. Pepper and Happy try to prep him for what to say, but Tony has a plan too.

 

The questions start flooding. “Mr. Stark, is it true you sent home most of your team?” “Mr. Stark, what are you doing to try to find this guy?” “Mr. Stark, what is your relation to Spider-Man?”

 

He lifts up a hand. “All right, all right, everyone calm down,” he says. “I've had no sleep and not enough coffee to deal with this many flashing lights, so I'm gonna make this quick.” The room settles. Cameras click, taking pictures, while others flash red, recording his every word.

 

He takes a breath.

 

“I know you all want me to talk about this mysterious kidnapping guy,” he says. “But I'm not going to. I could care less about him. You all know his story. Seeking revenge on the billionaire. Blah blah blah. We've all heard it before, right?”

 

There are a few chuckles.

 

“I'm gonna tell you a new story. It's about a superhero called Spider-Man from Queens. You know why you don't know his story? He sticks close to the ground. He helps the little people like you. He helps you guys find your lost dogs and gives you directions and returns your stolen bikes.” Tony rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh. “Does that sound like someone who is evil and has it out for you?”

 

No one replies. Another camera clicks.

 

“Spider-Man is just a kid trying to help you. And look, I know the Avengers have made a lot of mistakes. We've done a lot of things we aren't proud of in an attempt to make things better. This group of grown-ups has made enough problems to last a lifetime. But Spider-Man? He hasn't done anything. The only thing he ever cared about was keeping you safe.

 

“So if you want to turn on us, fine. Turn on the Avengers. Hell, turn on me. I've done nothing to deserve less. I've messed up. We all have. Especially you, John.” He points at a reporter in the front row. More laughs fill the room.

 

“We've made mistakes,” he says. “Don't let Spider-Man be one of them.”

 

People shift, glancing at each other, a strange understanding falling over the room.

 

“Now,” Tony says. “Any questions?”

 

Every hand raises.

 

 

 

Half an hour after that, Clint calls his attention to the news again, but this time there's no live stream from the man.

 

It's a reporter, and she seems amused.

 

“Listen,” Clint says.

 

“Authorities are advising citizens _not_ to engage in the ground search being lead by volunteers,” the reporter says. “Chief Police Officer Mike O'Connell believes the intentions are good, but said in an issued statement, 'You are putting yourself in danger and potentially getting in the way of the investigation. We all want to find Spider-Man, but engaging with the criminal who has him could lead to more injuries than we need.' Despite the warning, citizens from all over New York City are grouping together and organizing searches for their beloved hero.”

 

"Well holy shit,” Tony says.

 

Sam whistles. “Kid's got a following.”

 

“Yeah,” says Clint. “Let's just hope we don't startle this guy into doing something he regrets.”

 

Tony's smile falls. Before he can give much thought to how he should handle this new mob of Spider-Man lovers, F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice rings out.

 

“Boss.” She almost sounds like she's laughing. “Peter has something he'd like to show you.”

 

Tony quirks an eyebrow. A million questions hang on the tip of his tongue. He glances at Peter's revived vital information. “What is it?”

 

“Actually,” says F.R.I.D.A.Y. “He's sent you a visitor.”

 

“A visitor? What are you talking about?”

 

F.R.I.D.A.Y doesn't respond. There's a beat, a pause just long enough to make Tony consider threatening her with a power cycle, because he's really not in the mood for games right now, but then another voice comes over.

 

“Hello, Mr. Stark.”

 

Tony sits up straighter. “Son of a bitch,” he says, huffing out a laugh.

 

It's Karen.

 

 

* * *

 

viii.

 

 

 

“Karen?” Bruce blinks at Tony, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “But how ...”

 

“Peter was able to locate the backdoor F.R.I.D.A.Y was coming through,” Karen says. “He is a very smart boy. His knowledge of lock picking is lacking though.”

 

Tony lets out a relieved laugh. “I'll tell you what, Karen. If you keep him alive until we can get there, I promise that'll be the first thing I teach him. Does he know you've made contact?”

 

“No. He is asleep.”

 

He looks at Peter's heart rate like he might have accidentally missed something. “Asleep or unconscious?”

 

“Asleep,” says Karen. “He is suffering from exhaustion.”

 

“Yeah, that seems about right.” Tony's sure Peter has slept about as much as the rest of them have since he's been gone. “How is he?”

 

“He has a concussion. I am also detecting some contusions on his ribs. He –”

 

“Hold up,” Tony says. “Rewind. I don't need a list of injuries. How is he _doing_? In your words, not his.”

 

Karen takes a moment to answer. When she finally comes back, she sounds more concerned than Tony has ever programmed her to be. “He's still shaken from the paralysis. It caused a severe anxiety attack as he was coming out of it. He is also not handling his arms being bound behind him again very well. But he has been working hard to dig through my systems. He has also has been very strong dealing with all the physical pain he is being subjected to.”

 

Tony's throat goes dry. Jesus, having it splayed out like that just makes it feel so much worse.

 

“Karen,” Bruce says. “We've been doing some research of our own and we think the shocks Peter is feeling are coming from inside the suit.”

 

“That would be correct, Dr. Banner.”

 

“I'm sorry, what?” says Tony. “You know that?”

 

“Yes,” she says. “While Peter was digging around he was able to come across one of my protocols that has been tampered with. It has been altered to misfire and send out electrical charges. Peter tried to take the suit off when he still had use of his hands, but the locking mechanism is jammed and he was unable to.”

 

The ground lurches under him. Not only is the suit Tony designed to keep him safe torturing him, but now he's locked inside it?

 

“Great,” he mutters. “Just great. Okay, is there any information you have that can help us? Anything at all?”

 

“I might have something,” Karen says. “Peter recognizes the person who has captured him. I could hear them talking after the mask was taken off since my system is allowing me to stay active. Peter said the man works for you and that he was at a party.”

 

“Does he know his name?” Tony asks.

 

“He has not said it if he does. Would you like me to wake him up and ask him?”

 

“No.” Tony exhales and rubs his temples. It's odd enough Peter recognized him. He doubts there was ever a situation where he heard the guy's name.

 

“There is something else,” Karen says.

 

“Lay it down.”

 

“The man lost his wife and daughter. He told Peter his daughter was twenty years old.”

 

Something akin to hope flutters in Tony's stomach. This … this is information. This is good. This is beyond good. Because now …

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” he says.

 

She's one step ahead. “I am running a background check on all employees and looking for anyone who matches the criteria.”

 

“I've got something too,” Natasha says. “Come look at this.”

 

Tony crosses the space between them and peers at the monitor where she has pulled the security footage from the toll bridge into Staten Island.

 

“Watch the time stamps on this.” She splits the screen, brings up another next to it that looks exactly the same. They both play the same footage. A tan car pulling up to the booth and going through. But the time stamps are thirty minutes apart.

 

“There's a glitch here,” Natasha says. Sure enough, there's a small jump, a weird cut between frames, and then more cars pull through. “He must have tampered with the footage and looped it right here so no one would be able to track his car going through. I wouldn't have even noticed if I didn't recognize the license plate the second time.”

 

“That sneaky son of a bitch,” Tony says.

 

Steve moves toward him, Sam and Rhodey close on his heels. “So he's in Staten Island?” he asks. “And if Peter saw water, we can narrow down where he is. Especially since we know we lost the guy in Brooklyn and the first video came out an hour after that.”

 

Natasha sits back in her chair. “How many warehouses are along the shoreline?”

 

“Probably a lot,” Steve says. “And we don't know exactly how close he is to the water, just that he could see it. That means there are no other buildings in front of it.”

 

“Or behind it,” Bruce offers. “We have to be careful though. This guy is smart. If he has any doubt he could be found, he's probably set up a trap.”

 

“We've got a thousand New Yorkers out there looking for Spider-Man. We can't have traps.” Steve throws Tony a look. Tony holds his hands up in surrender.

 

“Don't look at me,” he says. “I didn't tell them to riot.”

 

“You didn't tell them not to.”

 

“That is also true.” Tony shrugs. “Look, Cap, you know just as well as anyone people come together under a threat. These people want the kid safe. I couldn't stop them even if I wanted to.”

 

“I'm not saying I don't understand," Steve says calmly. "I'm just saying we've got civilians out there. Not only do we need to watch out for Peter, but now most of New York City too.”

 

Tony smiles and claps Steve on the back. “Hate to tell you this, Cap, but that's kind of our job.”

 

Steve's lips twitch.

 

“Boss, I've got a match,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says. A picture is projected onto the screen, joined by a list of details. Birthday. Age. Home address. “His name is Jude Harrigan.”

 

“Harrigan?” Tony combs through his memories. He knows exactly who he is. Jude had been a hacker, once, asked to break into Tony's equipment by someone trying to get to him. Tony had tracked down Jude before he leaked anything important and offered him a job because he knew it was better to have Jude on his side than working against him.

 

Happy lets out a swear. “Harrigan? I hate that guy.”

 

“Different Harrigan, Hap,” Tony says. “You're thinking of Chester. Also, you're still holding a grudge? It was one day, a long time ago. I think it's okay to let it go.”

 

“Don't patronize me.”

 

“I would never.” Tony scrolls through Jude's information. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, what else you got on him?”

 

“He has been an employee for nine years,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says. “He claims to have lost both his wife and daughter in an explosion two months ago.”

 

“An explosion?” Steve asks. “What's that got to do with Tony?”

 

“The explosion was caused by a Stark research team when an experiment went wrong. Mr. Harrigan said his wife and daughter were visiting the lab when it happened.”

 

Tony frowns. “That explosion didn't kill anyone,” he says. “Unless I somehow missed this crucial bit of info.”

 

“You're right,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says. “The explosion caused no severe injuries. But that's not the strangest part. Mr. Harrigan did lose his wife and daughter – in the Chitauri attack on New York.”

 

Tony balls his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. The Chitauri attack. The missile. Space. How does it still bother him after all this time? After everything else he has done since then? He never dreams about it anymore, but he feels it in his bones whenever someone brings it up. Sometimes he swears he's still falling through the sky.

 

“But that was years ago,” Steve says.

 

Tony pries his fingers open and pinches the bridge of his nose, breathes out slowly. “Why now? Why blame the explosion?”

 

“It's possible Mr. Harrigan was suffering from delusions,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says. “He was seeing a therapist named Richard Benedict. Dr. Benedict's records of their sessions say Mr. Harrigan refused to acknowledge his loss and believed his wife to have left him and taken their daughter. He stopped seeking out therapy right after the explosion.”

 

“Okay, so the explosion, what, kicked him back to reality? Made him snap?”

 

It's Bruce who answers. “I've seen this happen before,” he says. “Sometimes when the brain can't handle a trauma it will dissociate. Jude probably couldn't process the pain of losing two people he loved at the same time, so he created a new timeline where they were still alive but in a place he couldn't see them. The explosion could have reminded him of the original trauma and brought back the memories he was repressing. Realizing his wife and daughter were actually deceased might have caused him to 'snap,' as you said. It's purely speculation, of course, but it would make sense why he's seeking revenge after all this time.”

 

“You guys are saying a lot of words right now,” Sam says. “Can anyone tell us straight forward how dangerous this guy is? Is he going to kill the kid now that there's a search party out for him?”

 

Tension falls like smoke over them. Steve whispers, “Sam,” while Tony glances over his shoulder at May. Sam seems to realize the bluntness of his words a little too late.

 

“Oh. Shit, sorry,” he says. May stares at the ground, her eyes shiny. God, Tony hasn't given much thought to how hard this has to be for her. May, who first suffered the loss of Peter's parents and then had to take the kid in. May, whose husband died not long ago and left her alone with only Peter. May, without Peter now, wondering if she's going to lose the last person she has.

 

“May –” Tony starts, but what is he supposed to say? I'm sorry?

 

It will never be good enough.

 

He feels Steve glance between them. “We need a plan,” Steve says, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “We should split up, go down the coastline. We should also have someone front the civilian search and try to lead them in a different direction. That way we can keep them out of danger and we can try to find Peter without announcing ourselves and scaring this guy.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Yeah, okay. I need people here too. Banner, can you get a team together? Once we find Peter he'll need medical attention and there's no chance in hell I'm taking him to a hospital. They'll be able to detect his enhanced abilities before he even gets through the door.”

 

“There's no problem here,” Bruce says. “I've been working with Helen Cho and her team on some research. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help Peter.”

 

“Just have F.R.I.D.A.Y run a check on her team and get them here as fast as you can. If anything, get her here first and then worry about the rest of them. She's already proven herself to me.”

 

Bruce nods and pulls his phone from his pocket, excusing himself from everyone. Tony turns to Clint.

 

“I need someone to man the computers and give us information we need. Are you cool hanging here?”

 

“Fine by me,” Clint says. “I'll keep an eye on the news feeds and see if anything comes through. I'll get the jet on standby too.”

 

“Good. Great. Cap?” Tony looks at him now. “Take it away.”

 

Steve nods. “You still got a prototype of my shield?”

 

“Yeah, it's in the storage vault downstairs.”

 

“I'm gonna need it,” Steve says. “Everyone else, suit up.”

 

Tony twists the bracelet on his wrist, ready to call the Iron Man suit to him. He gives May another glance. She has backed away from them to allow them space to move, and now she's standing between Happy and Pepper, watching them.

 

 _I'm sorry_ , he doesn't say. _I'm so sorry_.

 

It's not enough.

 

“Karen."

 

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

 

“Wake Peter up,” he says. “Tell him we're coming.”

 

* * *

 

ix.

 

 

 

 

“Peter. Peter. Peter. Peter!”

 

He swims through the last remains of sleep and groans. His shoulders are stiff and sore, and it takes him far too long to remember where he is. The man. The shackles. The videos.

 

His eyes fly open.

 

“Peter,” Karen says. “Try to relax. Take a breath.”

 

Peter's heart hammers against his chest. He breathes deep.

 

Karen says, “I didn't mean to startle you. I was able to make contact with Mr. Stark.”

 

“What?” Peter kicks out his legs to stretch them. “You mean we did it? We found the backdoor?”

 

“We did.”

 

“Karen, that's incredible!”

 

“It is,” Karen says. “Mr. Stark asked me to wake you up. He wanted me to tell you –”

 

Peter doesn't hear the rest. At that moment his mask is ripped off, and he blinks against the sudden bright light coming in through the windows.

 

“They're looking for you,” the man says. “All of New York City.”

 

The words don't process in his brain. The man's face is bare again, and Peter can see the anger and fear flashing over his features. Something is happening. Something is wrong.

 

“I …” Peter isn't sure what he's trying to say, but it doesn't matter. Before he can think of something, he hears the sound of tape ripping and his chest tightens. “Wait,” he says. “Wait. Please.”

 

“I'm sorry,” the man says. “I'm gonna need you to be quiet while I send out another video.”

 

“I'll be quiet. I won't make a sound. Please, just don't do this. Please.”

 

The man looks at him. He seems torn, conflicted, like Peter is maybe actually having some effect on him.

 

Peter tries to stay calm. “I know,” he whispers, and then clears his throat. His voice shakes. “I know you're scared. But we can fix this. We can make it better.”

 

“Kid, you don't understand,” the man says. “There is no better after this.”

 

“But there is. There is. Please. We can fix this. I can help you.”

 

“Why would you do that?”

 

“Because I know how it feels to lose people,” he says. “I know how it feels to want revenge. But the world doesn't have to end here. You can keep living.”

 

The man lingers another second. His expression turns eerily calm. He kneels in front of Peter.

 

“No,” he says. “I can't.” He smooths the tape over his lips and pulls his mask back down. “I'm so sorry, kid. I never should have brought you into this. I didn't know that you … I'm just sorry.”

 

Peter squeezes his eyes closed. _Don't cry_ , he tells himself. _Don't cry don't cry don't cry_. If he cries he's going to plug up his nose again and he's going to feel like he's suffocating. _Don't cry_.

 

“Peter,” Karen says. “They're on their way. Mr. Stark wanted me to tell you he's on his way. Just hold on. It's almost over.”

 

But no, it's not. Peter doesn't think it will ever be over.

 

His muscles seize as the shocks start again.

 

* * *

  

Natasha and Steve and Wanda head out first, crossing the bridge into Staten Island. Tony stays behind, waiting for Sam and Rhodey to help the citizens with their ground search. They have to get the group turned around before he can leave so he doesn't attract attention with the suit. It sucks not being out there, but Tony doesn't have a choice. He can't let Jude know they're coming.

 

“Hey, Hap,” he says. “Come over here a second.”

 

Happy steps away from Pepper and moves to his side.

 

“I need a favor,” Tony says.

 

“Tony, I'm not looking at that thing on your back again. Go to a doctor.”

 

“No, not that. I need you to take care of the kid's aunt.”

 

Happy arches an eyebrow. “As opposed to …?”

 

“I mean when we bring him back. Make sure she's not anywhere she can see him. I don't know what kind of condition he's gonna be in and I don't need her panicking pre-maturely.”

 

“I don't think 'pre-maturely' is the word you need for this situation.”

 

“I could think of another word, and then a place to tell you where to put it.”

 

Happy rolls his eyes. “Don't worry about May,” he says. “I'll take care of it.”

 

“Stark, you set?” comes Steve's voice over his earpiece.

 

“Locked and loaded,” he says.

 

“We've got the civilians together and heading out the other direction. There's media coverage all over it, so make sure you don't stumble across them. Send Vision to join Wanda. She's moving north down the coastline. I've got Natasha with me.”

 

“Way to work the buddy system,” Tony says, activating the suit. “But what about me?”

 

“You'll come with us.”

 

“Can you say that again in a lower voice? And you know, really feel it.”

 

“Shut it, Stark.”

 

Tony smiles. He gives Happy a brief nod of acknowledgment and doesn't look at May. There's nothing he can say to her that will matter. He just needs to get to Peter and get him back.

 

“Tony,” Pepper says. He opens his faceplate. “Be careful, all right?”

 

“Always am.” He kisses her. She laughs.

 

“No. No, you're not. Now get out there and bring Peter home.”

 

Tony closes the faceplate again and starts up the thrusters. That's exactly what he plans to do.

 

 

 

Ten minutes later and he is barely across the bay when Natasha's voice comes over his earpiece.

 

“I've got him,” she says. “Tony, I've got him.”

 

Tony heart skips a beat. “Is he –” He can't make the word come out.

 

“He's alive. He's got a pulse.”

 

“Where are you?”

 

Natasha reads off the coordinates. Blood rushes through his ears.

 

“What about Jude?”

 

“He's not here,” Steve says.

 

“Hit and run?” Tony mutters. “That's mature. Be on guard. He could come back at any time.”

 

“Got it.” In the background of Steve's transmission, Tony hears Natasha say, “Peter? Hey, kiddo. Try to stay still. Let me get the tape off.”

 

Tony growls. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, give me more power.”

 

He makes it to the warehouse in breakneck speed and disengages the thrusters, dropping to his feet. He is cautious, on alert, ready for an attack.

 

“Scan the area,” he says. “Give me a heat map.”

 

The only registered signals are coming from a room in the back. Three people. Tony knows their outlines. He hurries past debris and broken pillars and chunks of concrete. In the corner is the place the first broadcast came from. He tries not to look at the dark stains on the floor.

 

 _Shit_.

 

He steps into the room.

 

"Over here, Tony."

 

The first thing he sees is Peter.

 

Peter, propped in a sitting position by Steve, Natasha kneeling behind him to pick open the locks on his shackles. His mask is off, his face swollen and bloody, a trail of red dripping from his nose. Steve murmurs something to him and the side of his mouth twists in a tired smile. Then he looks up.

 

“Tony?” he asks, an expression of bewilderment passing over his features.

 

Tony pulls up his faceplate and breathes out in relief. “Hey, kid.”

 

There's shuffling, a loud bang, and Natasha stands quickly, drawing her gun and pointing it at something behind him. He spins around and sees Jude standing by the door. He is bare-faced, void of emotion. A second later Peter lets out a cry and spasms.

 

Tony turns his palm out, ready to blast him. Jude looks nothing like he remembers. When is the last time he even saw him in real life? He was at the party, but Tony hadn't been paying attention.

 

“Stand down or I'll kill him,” Jude says. Peter screams, the sound dying somewhere in his throat.

 

“Okay,” Natasha says calmly. “Look, I'm putting down the gun. Tony, turn off the blaster.”

 

Tony could wipe this guy out in a second flat, but the kid is still being tortured behind him, so he drops his arm.

 

The shocks stop. Peter stops screaming, but he continues to jolt, these weird, obstructed gasps leaving his mouth. Tony glances back and sees Steve trying to brace the kid and block him at the same time.

 

“You don't remember me, do you?” Jude asks.

 

“Don't take it personal, Harrigan,” Tony says. “I don't remember what I had for breakfast.”

 

“I'm not interested in your jokes, Tony Stark.”

 

“No one ever is.” Tony sighs dramatically. “Jude Harrigan. Hacker turned engineer,” he says. “I hired you so you wouldn't break into my stuff. You had a lot of potential. I knew it the moment I met you.”

 

“So you do remember me. Do you also remember killing my wife and little girl?”

 

Tony's hands clench. “I didn't kill them. The Chitauri did.”

 

“You always have excuses.” Jude waves the remote like he's branding a weapon. “The Chitauri and Ultron and the good of mankind. You kill people, Stark. You take out innocent lives and don't even care.”

 

“And what you're doing is better?” Tony asks. “Kidnapping a fifteen-year-old and torturing him? Maybe you're more like me than you realize.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Tony,” Natasha warns quietly.

 

“At least I tried,” Tony says. “I tried to make it better. I tried to undo my wrongs.”

 

Jude laughs a harsh sound. “Did you? Did you really?”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“You can never undo it,” Jude says. “You can never bring those people back to life. Your guilty consciousness is trying to make you feel better, but the truth is you will never stop killing. You will never change, Tony Stark. You can't.”

 

“Stop,” Peter chokes out. “Stop. You don't – you don't h-have to do t-this.”

 

Tony thinks Peter is talking to him, but Jude answers first.

 

“I already told you,” he says. “I do.”

 

“I can … I can make them understand.”

 

Jude's features soften. He shakes his head. “No. You can't, Peter. And you shouldn't have to.”

 

 _What the hell_?

 

Jude eyes the kid for a long moment and then everything seems to happen at once. He drops the remote, says, “I'm so sorry,” and smashes it with his foot. Natasha dives for her gun, Jude pulls one of his own, Tony raises the blaster, Peter screams, “No!” and Steve blocks him with the shield right as a shot rings out.

 

Silence settles over the room.

 

Tony looks at the viewfinder to see if he's been hurt. He's in one piece. He's fine. Natasha is still standing too. She lowers her gun and says something under her breath, something that doesn't reach Tony's ears.

 

And then Tony realizes Jude is on the floor.

 

“Did you –”

 

“No,” Natasha says. “He did it himself.”

 

Tony stares at him. “Shit,” he says. What the hell just happened?

 

He turns and sees Peter is staring too, his gaze fixed on Jude's body. It takes a moment for the reality to set in, and then his face crumples and Steve touches the back of his hair and tips him forward until Peter's forehead is resting on his shoulder.

 

Natasha holsters her gun and leans down to press two fingers against Jude's neck. There's already too much blood spreading around him. Tony knows before she even confirms it.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” he says. “Send … send a cleanup crew. Jude Harrigan is dead.”

 

“Yes, boss.”

 

Holy shit. This isn't the way things were supposed to go.

 

“Natasha –”

 

Peter lets out a sudden yell. He seizes again and slides to the floor, his limbs still bound, his body locked tight in pain.

 

“Stark,” Steve says, hands hovering over Peter uselessly. “What's happening?”

 

Tony doesn't know. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, why is he still being shocked?”

 

“Mr. Harrigan smashed the remote that controls it,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says. “It is more than likely short circuiting. You'll need to get the suit off.”

 

Panic makes his nerves fire. He didn't think about how he'd end up getting the kid out of the suit once he found him, he just wanted to find him. He doesn't have the tools he needs. He doesn't have anything he needs. He can't get the suit off here.

 

Peter screams.

 

 _Shit_.

 

 

* * *

 

x.

 

 

 

Clint has the jet there before Tony can blink.

 

The shocks have stopped, started, and stopped again. F.R.I.D.A.Y tells him they'll run on a random interval. No formula, no strategy. The misfiring protocol is going haywire and Peter will have to suffer until they can get the suit off.

 

Natasha has to wait until he stops shaking to pick the shackles and snap them off his wrists. Peter's arms fall limply to his side.

 

“Flex your fingers,” she says. “Try to get some blood flowing.”

 

Peter winces and does what she requests.

 

“Heads up,” Clint says as soon as he's through the door. “We've got people outside.”

 

“What kind of people?” Tony asks.

 

“Civilians. The Stark jet is not exactly invisible and neither is Spider-Man over here.”

 

Tony kneels beside Peter. “Kid, if you want to stay a secret superhero, we gotta put your mask back on.”

 

Peter nods. He takes the mask from Tony and slowly slides it on again. Natasha works on the shackles around his ankles.

 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “They're here. I'm okay.”

 

Tony frowns, but then he remembers there's a voice Peter can hear that they can't. Karen.

 

The bonds pop free. Steve is still in the back room, checking over Jude's body, looking for another remote or anything that can help them. The decision to move Peter to a different part of the warehouse had been mutual and immediate. No one wanted him staring at Jude. Not after his reaction.

 

“Cap?” Tony calls. “You ready to go?”

 

Steve walks out looking grim. “Yeah. Pete, you ready?”

 

“I can walk,” Peter says, but when Tony helps him to his feet his knees buckle and he nearly collapses. Tony catches him before he can hit the ground.

 

“That was convincing,” he says. “But maybe try a different technique next time.”

 

Peter tenses and slips from his hold, jolting for a few seconds. Tony drops down next to him.

 

“Kid –”

 

It stops. Peter trembles and lets out a breathy sob. “I'm okay. I'm okay.”

 

He doesn't protest when Steve scoops him up and they all make their way outside. Whispers flood the air as soon as they do. “It's Spider-Man,” the voices say. “Is he alive?” “Is he dead?” “He's not moving.”

 

Tony tunes them out. They hurry up the ramp and the door closes behind them and Steve lays Peter down on the gurney inside. Clint and Natasha head to the front to pilot the jet and Tony stands beside Peter to mess with the locking mechanism.

 

“You ever been inside a jet before?” he asks. “I know you've been on one.”

 

“Just … just the plane to Germany and back,” Peter says, fumbling weakly to remove his mask again.

 

“Oh,” says Tony. He helps pull the fabric away. “Well, that's awkward.”

 

Peter laughs and starts seizing just as quick, his back arching up from the table. Tony places a hand on his chest and waits until he collapses back down.

 

“Fuck.” Peter's eyes close tightly. Tears leak down his cheeks. Tony can feel his sternum rising and falling too fast.

 

“Breathe, kid,” he says. “Breathe.”

 

“Can't we just rip it off?” Steve asks.

 

“It's a million dollar suit, Cap. It's not designed to just rip.” Tony prods at the spider emblem. He needs tools. He needs to hack back into the suit to reactive the emergency release. Or stop the shocks. Whatever he can do first.

 

Shit, he could really use Wanda right now. She could probably break through the lock and cause the suit to open. Would that even work?

 

Peter makes a shuddering noise and swears again.

 

“Breathe,” Tony reminds him. “And watch your language. It offends Cap's sensitive ears.”

 

A small smile passes Peter's face. “Sorry,” he mutters.

 

Steve rolls his eyes. “You're never gonna let that go, are you?”

 

“Never,” Tony says. He pushes on the release system and leans close to watch where it collapses. Peter lets out a cry and jolts, and this time Tony and Steve have to hold him down to keep him from falling off the stretcher entirely.

 

A few seconds later, Peter goes limp and quiet.

 

“Kid?”

 

“Peter?” Steve rests a palm on his forehead. He uses his other hand to pry open one of Peter's eyelids. “Can you hear me?”

 

“What's going on back there?” Clint asks.

 

“He passed out,” Tony says. “Kid? Peter?”

 

Peter sucks in a harsh breath and blinks up at them, dazed.

 

“Hey, hey. Can you hear me?” Steve tries again. Peter nods wearily. “Okay, try to stay calm. We're almost there.” He glances up at Tony. “We gotta get this thing off him.”

 

“No shit.” Tony smooths his hand across Peter's chest again and leaves it there, feeling his heart pound. “Want to stick with those pajamas next time, kid?”

 

Peter coughs out a laugh. “How a-about s-something in the m-middle?”

 

“Yeah, we'll see.”

 

 

 

When they land at the tower, they are met by Bruce and Dr. Cho. Tony and Steve hurry alongside the gurney as they wheel it out and into the compound.

 

“Stark,” Dr. Cho greets. “What are we looking at?”

 

“We're looking at a problem right now,” Tony says.

 

“What's the problem?”

 

Peter yelps and seizes again, this time not as long, and falls back down.

 

“That,” Tony says.

 

“W-we can't g-get the suit o-off,” Peter chokes out.

 

“He's right.” They push the gurney into the medical bay and come to a stop. Dr. Cho's team swarms around them. “Jude smashed the remote that was controlling the shocks and now they're short circuiting and happening at random. I need some kind of tool to get the lock open again. Or Wanda to break through it. Where is she?”

 

“I don't know,” Bruce says, examining the lock. “But breaking it isn't going to work. It has jammed the entire release system. If you break through it there will just be a hole there instead. Do you still have alien technology here?”

 

“What?” Tony looks at Peter, who is glancing between them with wide eyes. “Yeah, we have stuff down where Cap's shield was. In the storage vault.”

 

“You remember how we talked about what the suit could sustain? How something outside our world would be able to get through the fabric?”

 

“You wanna use alien tech to cut through the suit?”

 

“Cut through it?” Peter asks. He thumps his head against the bed and groans.

 

“Don't worry,” Tony says. “I won't accidentally cut one of your limbs off.”

 

Peter's nose scrunches.

 

“I won't do it on purpose either,” says Tony. “Hang tight. Let me go get what we have. Cap, come help me carry stuff.”

 

They raid the storage vault and grab anything that looks like it could be helpful. By the time they make it back upstairs, Dr. Cho has her fingers pressed into Peter's neck and Bruce has both hands on either side of his head to stabilize him and he's saying, “Peter, can you hear me? Peter, can you open your eyes?”

 

“What happened?” Tony asks.

 

“The suit shocked him again,” Bruce says. “For about thirty seconds straight. It knocked him out.”

 

“Let's hurry and try to get it off before he wakes up. Last thing I need is him jolting while we cut through skintight fabric.”

 

So they test out different tech until they find one that will be easy enough to control and they get one rip in the suit, then another, until they have the thing split down the middle and they're rolling Peter to the side to slide it out from under him and they leave him in only his boxers.

 

Tony sees the colors painted across his torso. Bruises and burns and cuts. _That fucker_.

 

Dr. Cho throws a sheet over Peter. “Is that it?” she asks. “Is that the end of our problem?”

 

“Well, the end of _that_ problem.”

 

“Do I need to anticipate anymore short circuiting of any kind?”

 

“No.”

 

That's all Dr. Cho needs to kick Tony and Steve out of the room and start her treatment of a still-unconscious Peter.

 

 

 

It turns out Wanda and Vision had been spotted by at least a hundred people and had been unable to get back to the warehouse for fear of compromising the location. When Tony had released the information over the earpiece, both of them set off to find Sam and Rhodey to try to draw the attention back over to the other side of the bridge.

 

Now they are here, in the compound, and all the Avengers and Avengers in-laws are lingering around in the living room and kitchen area and waiting. Dr. Cho had come down, at one point, to grab May. She hadn't said anything of importance, just that she needed Peter's legal guardian to be there for something, but Tony has a strong feeling Peter woke up and was looking for her.

 

“So he is dead?” Wanda asks. “Jude?”

 

“Yeah,” says Steve. “He shot himself. The kid is pretty upset about it, so don't bring it up in front of him.”

 

“I won't. But I don't understand. Why did he do it?”

 

“You said before he was scared.”

 

“It takes a lot of fear to end your own life.”

 

Tony feels the familiar twinge of anxiety creeping along his bones. He mumbles out some excuse to leave and ducks away into a hallway where he clenches his hands and breathes.

 

“Tony?” Pepper's voice is soft.

 

Tony doesn't look at her. “Pathetic, huh?” he says. Pepper gently pries open his fingers and slips her own hand into his.

 

“It's not pathetic.”

 

“The kid's never gonna forgive me. He was trying to convince Jude not to do it. He was trying to help him.”

 

“You didn't make him do what he did,” Pepper says. “He wasn't well. You know that.”

 

“ _I_ know that, but Peter doesn't.”

 

“He'll understand.”

 

“I don't know if he will this time, Pep.”

 

They stand with their backs against the wall and Tony lets Pepper soothe the panic rolling in his stomach.

 

 

 

Peter sleeps. He sleeps and sleeps and sleeps.

 

Dr. Cho tells them all it's normal. She tells them he is exhausted from the ordeal and that his body needs rest and he'll wake up when he wakes up. He is healing. Nothing life-threatening, but nothing pleasant either. Hours upon hours of shocks to his nervous system and strained shoulders and hits and bruised ribs and a nasty concussion and multiple tests from what Peter calls “some weird blaster thing” that Jude used to see how much effort it took to destroy the fabric of the suit. Tony tries not to think about the burns he saw on the kid's skin.

 

“His bone strength is incredible,” Dr. Cho says. “He fell from a twenty-foot window and didn't break anything.”

 

“Yeah,” says Tony. “I'll dazzle you later with the story of a building collapsing on him.”

 

They all tiptoe around. May stations herself inside Peter's room and the rest of them peek in from time to time, bring her food and magazines and a phone charger. Peter is mostly still, mostly unmoving, so in the middle of the night when he starts mumbling under his breath he startles everyone. It takes a minute for the words to become something close to clear, and when they do and Tony hears him saying, “Karen, Karen, Karen,” he has to look away. May shushes him and gets him back to sleep and it's over as soon as it starts.

 

Twenty hours in, when they've all done sleeping of their own and they're feeling a little better and more confident, Peter starts seizing. It takes Bruce, Dr. Cho, and two of her team members to assess what's going on and shoot him up with enough sedatives to calm his nerves back down.

 

“It wasn't anything harmful,” Bruce assures Tony. “It's his mind holding onto the sensation of pain and reliving it. It happened so often, especially right at the end, that his body expects the shocks to still be happening.”

 

Tony considers asking for a sedative of his own, because, shit, he thought all this was supposed to be over.

 

They keep a closer watch of Peter after that, but he doesn't seize again. Eventually he wakes up for real, almost ten hours later, thirty from when they originally set him up. Tony is talking to Bruce outside his door when he hears Peter ask, “May?” in a broken voice. He peers in to see Peter sitting up, his eyes filling with tears. Reality settles. Realization washes over. He seems to crack all at once. May holds him and lets him cry and tells him everything is okay.

 

Everyone cycles in after that. Natasha first, then Steve and Sam, Wanda, Rhodey, Vision, Happy and Pepper. Tony lingers around with some of them, but he doesn't talk to Peter about anything important. He doesn't know what to say.

 

Sam, on the other hand, does. Tony accidentally stumbles across him in Peter's room by himself and he's turning around to leave when Sam's voice stops him.

 

“You have to decide what you're going to take with you,” Sam is saying. “And whatever you leave behind, you have to _leave behind_. You can't go back for it. You'll want to, but you can't. If you keep going back for things too heavy to carry, you're never gonna be able to move forward again. You'll never get past this if you do.”

 

Tony leaves after that. Two tours, was it? Sam was a soldier. _Is_ a solider. And haven't they all been there? Haven't they all been tortured and held hostage and saw things they can never take back?

 

Jesus, Peter is just a kid. He shouldn't have to be a soldier.

 

“Tony?”

 

He looks up to see May approaching him. He waits for the yelling. The anger. The frustration.

 

Instead, she says, “Thank you. Thank you for bringing my kid back.”

 

It makes his heart hurt.

 

"I'm sorry," he says for real this time, "For getting him taken in the first place."

 

 

 

He comes back to visit Peter later after the initial hype dies a bit. They dimmed the lights in his room after a brief sensory overload and now he's awake and lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone. May is downstairs, so Tony feels no shame when he says, “Looking at porn?”

 

Even in the dark, Tony can see Peter's ears turn red. Peter turns the phone around and extends it out to him. Tony takes it.

 

 _New York City sets off on a search to find Spider-Man_. There are a dozen headlines, all of them about the citizens searching for Peter, about Spider-Man being found and everyone wishing him a speedy recovery and letting him know they can't wait for him to come back again.

 

 _We'll be here_ , they say. _We'll be here when you're ready_.

 

Tony turns the screen off and says, “You've got a fan club.”

 

“Did you do this?” Peter asks softly.

 

“No, kid. New York did this.” Tony sets the phone on the table next to his bed. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I'm okay.”

 

“Are you really okay, or are you doing that thing where you pretend to be okay?”

 

Peter smiles gently. “I'm really okay.”

 

“Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?”

 

“You're not holding up any fingers.”

 

“That was a trick question. You passed.”

 

Peter pushes himself up against his pillows. Tony hesitates a second and then sits on the edge of his bed. Where does he even start? How does he do this?

 

“Kid, I'm ... I'm so sorry.”

 

“Please don't,” Peter says.

 

Tony blinks at him. “What?”

 

“I don't want apologies,” says Peter. “I know it's not your fault. That guy – Jude –" His voice cracks. He swallows hard. "He needed someone to blame and you were the easiest. I get it. I just want to move on.”

 

“You're gonna have to talk about it eventually,” Tony says. “And we're gonna have to talk about it eventually. You know that, right? It doesn't have to be now, it doesn't have to be today, but it's going to happen.”

 

Peter just smiles again. He's oddly quiet, oddly still.

 

“Tony?” he says.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Do you … do you know why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why he did it?”

 

For a moment Tony thinks Peter is asking why Jude decided to kidnap him, but then he gets what he means. The end. The gun. The final bang.

 

“He was sick,” Tony says. “You know, mentally. He had all these delusions and believed for a long time his wife and daughter had run out on him and wouldn't come to terms with their deaths. Something made him snap. I think he backed himself into a corner and just panicked.”

 

Peter shakes his head. “No. No, it was more than that. You don't kill yourself unless ...” He scrubs at his face. “Would you have killed him?”

 

“No,” Tony says honestly. “Not unless I had to.”

 

Peter drops his gaze. “I just …”

 

“You just what?”

 

“I saw myself in him,” he whispers. “He was so sad. He wanted revenge. And I … I've been there. I wanted to help him. I wanted to save him.”

 

Tony sighs. “Look, kid, you remember how I told you before you can't save everyone?” he says, and holds up a hand to stop Peter when he starts to interrupt. “It's not because you're not capable of saving people. It's because some people aren't capable of being saved.”

 

“Am I?” Peter asks. “Can I be saved?”

 

“You don't need to be. There's a reason you were able to lift Thor's hammer. You're not a bad person, Peter. You're doing everything you can to help the little guy. Stick to the ground and you'll be fine. Just stay where you can be a kid. You don't get to do it over again.”

 

Peter's eyes shimmer. He nods mutely and doesn't say anything else. Tony squeezes his shoulder and stands. “You should get some more rest probably. Everyone keeps nagging me about how exhausted you're supposed to be. We'll talk more later, okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay.” Peter slides down the bed. Tony is nearly to the door when he speaks again. “Hey Tony?”

 

“What?”

 

“I think you're wrong,” he says. “About Jude. About … about people. I think everyone is capable of being saved. Even you.”

 

Tony stands frozen for a moment. In the hallway, Pepper gives him a smirk and says, “I thought you don't like people handing you things?”

 

He'd taken the phone from Peter without even thinking.

 

“Get out,” he says, and Pepper chuckles and pecks him on the cheek.

 

This might be over, but it's from the end. He knows this. He knows Peter will only face bigger and scarier things and one day he might not be able to bring him back. One day he might not be able to protect him. But he'll do everything he can until then. He'll fight tooth and nail and he'll research and train and he'll learn to better, be a better mentor, a better person, a better protector.

 

He'll do what he can, because he knows he's made a shit ton of mistakes in his life. He's not going to let Peter Parker be one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> the party thing they are referring to in the story is based on a story I wrote where Peter didn't sleep for three days and passed out during a party at HQ. it doesn't exist on this account anymore, cause it was deleted in my ambien fiasco, but just thought I'd clarify for anyone confused.
> 
> congrats on making it to the bottom! proud of you. you did good. merry christmas and happy holidays!


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